The First Class of Fulbrighters - Fulbright-Kommission

The
First Class
of
Fulbrighters
FULBRIGHT
KOMMISSION

The
First Class
of
Fulbrighters
TABLE OF CONTENTS
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Introductions
from Dr. Richard Schmierer and
MinDg Dr. Gabriele von Halem, Chairman and
Vice Chairperson of the Fulbright Commission
The Beginning of the Fulbright Program
by James F. Tent
German Fulbrighters in the U.S.
American Fulbrighters in Germany
About the Fulbright Commission

Welcome Grußwort
A LOT HAS CHANGED since the first group of
German-American Fulbrighters—about 200 graduate students
and teachers, and a handful of senior scholars from
each side of the Atlantic—set sail in 1953. At that time the
world—and Germany—was sharply divided into two ideologically-opposed
camps. The
U.N. was just ending a police
action in Korea that left that
peninsula similarly separated.
The need to bring about, in Senator
Fulbright’s words, “a little
more knowledge, a little more
reason, and a little more compassion
into world affairs” was never
more evident than at that moment.
The opportunity to participate in a German-American
Fulbright exchange was a radically different proposition
then than it is today. Americans coming to Germany
encountered a country still recovering from the effects of a
devastating war and searching for a new national identity.
For German Fulbrighters, travel outside of Germany was a
novelty in itself, and the chance to spend time in the U.S.
on a Fulbright exchange program was something that few
of their countrymen could even dream about. Today’s Fulbrighters
face a completely different situation. Germany is a
reunited, solidly democratic nation with a well-developed
economy and is a leading member of an expanding European
Union. Germans travel frequently outside of their
country and so German Fulbrighters are usually aware of
many aspects of the U.S., its culture, society, and political
system before starting their Fulbright program.
Although the situations Fulbrighters in 1953 encountered
may be radically different than those faced today, the
benefits of participating in the Fulbright Program have
remained constant for both Germans and Americans: a
greater appreciation of the other country’s point of view and
way of solving problems, a willingness to serve as an
“ambassador” between cultures, and a commitment to
bringing about the goals Senator Fulbright envisioned for
the program. Today, 50 years after the first group of German-American
Fulbright participants started out on an
often life-altering journey, let us rededicate ourselves to the
Fulbright vision.
Dr. Richard J. Schmierer, Chairman of the Board of
the Fulbright Commission, Minister Counselor for Public
Affairs at the U.S. Embassy, Berlin
„CLASS OF 53-54“ läßt mich an die Tradition
denken, die im Auswärtigen Amt noch heute gelebt wird.
Die Jahrgänge der alljährlich im Auswärtigen Amt neu
eingestellten jungen Diplomatinnen und Diplomaten werden
hier zwar „crews“ statt „classes“ genannt. Hinter beiden
Begriffen steckt aber letztlich das
Gleiche: die „class“ oder die „crew“
schafft die Klammer zwischen
Menschen, die im Leben und im
Beruf eine gemeinsame Basis und
gemeinsame Ziele haben und die
über die Jahre hinweg den Kontakt
untereinander pflegen.
Eine gemeinsame Basis der
„Class of 53-54“ ist nicht nur der deutsch-amerikanische
Austausch unter dem „Fulbright-Dach“, sondern auch vor
allem die Tatsache, dass wir es hier sozusagen mit den Gründern
der deutsch-amerikanischen Fulbright-Familie zu tun
haben. Die Mitglieder der „Class of 53-54“ haben schon
frühzeitig einen wichtigen Beitrag zu der weiteren Vertiefung
der transatlantischen Beziehungen geleistet, aus
denen sich später die deutsch-amerikanische Freundschaft
entwickelte. Damals also waren sie schon Multiplikatoren
eines besseren gegenseitigen Verständnisses. Dabei müssen
wir uns vor Augen führen: der Zweite Weltkrieg lag noch
keine zehn Jahre zurück!
Berichte von „Ehemaligen“ der „Class 53-54“ zeugen
von großem Interesse am Gastland, akademischer Ernsthaftigkeit
und zuweilen auch Erstaunen vor der manchmal
unerwarteten, im Vergleich zum Herkunftsland als vollkommen
anders empfundenen Lebenswirklichkeit des
anderen Landes. Dieses Erstaunen ist trotz des gewachsenen
Verständnisses zwischen unseren Völkern in den letzten
Jahrzehnten auch heute noch möglich, und es ist eine
Chance, die wir uns nicht entgehen lassen sollten. Gewiss,
wir haben uns angewöhnt, die deutsch-amerikanische
Freundschaft, unabhängig von gelegentlichen politischen
Turbulenzen, als selbstverständlich zu erleben. Aber diese
Selbstverständlichkeit darf uns nicht dazu verleiten, uns
in zufriedener Passivität zurückzulehnen. Denn die Lebenswirklichkeiten
ändern sich; das heißt, die Kenntnisse
übereinander und das Verständnis füreinander wollen
ständig ergänzt und erneuert werden.
Die Vision von Senator Fulbright bleibt demnach
aktuell. Ich bin überzeugt, dass sie auch in den kommenden
„classes“ weiterlebt und von ihnen in die Zukunft unserer
Länder hineingetragen wird.
Frau Dr. Gabriele von Halem, Stellvertretende
Vorsitzende der Deutsch-Amerikanischen Fulbright-
Kommission, Leiterin der Kultur- und Bildungsabteilung
des Auswärtigen Amtes, Berlin

The Beginning of the
German-American
Fulbright Program 1952
by James F. Tent
German Chancellor Konrad Adenauer (right) and U.S. High Commissioner John J. McCloy (center) sign the Fulbright
Agreement, July 18, 1952.
HEADQUARTERED IN BERLIN SINCE 1998,
the German-American Fulbright Program has developed
into one of the most active and influential of the binational
educational exchange programs operating under the Fulbright
umbrella. Every year it sends hundreds of German
students, scholars, and educators to the United States and
hosts an equally large and distinguished group of American
students, scholars, and educators at Germany’s institutions
of higher learning. The prominence of the German-American
Fulbright Program in the world of scholarly exchange is
intimately tied to modern German history.
Following World War II, when the United States joined
in occupying a defeated Germany, officials in its Office of
Military Government (OMGUS) discovered that most Ger-
man citizens had been isolated from the rest of the world for
at least half a generation. Starting with the notion of “re-education”
of a former enemy, followed by a gentler “re-orientation”
concept a few years later, OMGUS and U.S. State
Department officials conceived a foreign policy program for
sending Germans, especially civic leaders open to democratic
ideals and possessing leadership potential, to the United
States at public expense to witness democracy in action. This
exchange program was launched in 1947, and within six
years nearly 10,000 young Germans “experienced” the United
States, many of them attending universities there. Upon
returning to Germany, many went on to build prominent
careers in the public and private sectors.

AT VIRTUALLY THE SAME
TIME, a freshman senator from
Arkansas, J. William Fulbright, initiated
a new program in the United States
intended to bring Americans out of their
own brand of cultural isolation and to
connect students and scholars worldwide
on a basis of equality. A Rhodes Scholar
worried that so few Americans had studied
abroad or experienced foreign cultures,
Fulbright, who was profoundly
moved by the bombings of Hiroshima
and Nagasaki, conceived of an imaginative
new use of the obscure War Surplus
Property Act of 1944. His idea was to
use a portion of the monetary credits
derived from war surplus overseas to send
young scholars abroad with the twin
goals of advancing knowledge and furthering
mutual understanding. A convincing
advocate and skilled political
strategist, Fulbright won over the initially
hesitant Congress, Treasury, and State
Department, and on August 1, 1946
President Truman signed off on the P.L.
584 Amendment. Using State Department
infrastructure for support, the program set up an
independent Board of Foreign Scholarships (renamed the J.
William Fulbright Foreign Scholarship Board in 1991) so
that participating nations could select qualified scholars and
educators to visit the U.S. while the BFS would choose
young scholars to send abroad.
KNOWN AS THE FULBRIGHT ACT, the program
was destined in Germany’s case to overtake the
exchange program in the American Zone, elevating the
underlying purpose of the exchange from postwar re-orientation
to genuine partnership. The Fulbright Exchange Program
began operation in 1948, first targeting former Allied
nations that were recovering most rapidly from the war.
The possibility of creating a German Fulbright Program
was first addressed in 1949 after the establishment of the
Federal Republic of Germany. Chancellor Konrad Adenauer
and U.S. High Commissioner John J. McCloy entered into
lengthy negotiations, but because the Federal Republic had
Senator J. William Fulbright
2 3
not yet attained full sovereignty and because of funding
intricacies and legal issues delays ensued. The United States
signed the (Fulbright) Executive Agreement with the Federal
Republic on July 18, 1952, and the binational Fulbright
Commission came into existence.
Beginning with the academic year 1953-54, approximately
200 American graduate students, twenty teachers,
and a handful of senior scholars arrived in Germany, while a
comparable group of German students, teachers, and senior
scholars traveled to the United States. From its inception,
the program was a great success, as evidenced by the summary
reports submitted by participants at the conclusion of
their year-long programs.. On both sides, the participants
found their Weltanschauung and their understanding of people
(as distinct from nations) immeasurably widened, just as
Senator Fulbright had so fervently wished.
- James Tent is a professor for German history at the University of Alabama
at Birmingham.

No Dollar, No Bed
von Werner Freiesleben
IM JULI 1953 traf ich mit ca. 170 weiteren deutschen
Fulbright-Stipendiaten nach einem 24-stündigen Flug ab
Düsseldorf mit Zwischenlandungen in Kopenhagen, Glasgow,
Shannon, Neufundland und Boston in New York ein
und verbrachte dort in einem Hotel in der 57. Straße vier
aufregende Tage. Wegen der beachtlichen Hitze waren im
Hotel (das noch keine Klimaanlage hatte) sämtliche Türen
offen gehalten durch ein mit der Sperrkette eingeklemmtes
New Yorker Telefonbuch.
Dann ging’s in’s orientation center an die Duke University
in Durham, North Carolina. Dort waren Stipendiaten aus
ca. 40 Nationen zusammengekommen. Prof. Hanson leitete
das Programm. Wir besuchten im damals noch durch
segregation abgetrennten Schwarzenviertel von Durham unter
anderem auch einen Gottesdienst, der mir deshalb in Erinnerung
blieb, weil auf den (sehr) notwendigen Papierfächern
das Vaterunser abgedruckt war.
Ein anderer Ausflug führte uns nach Oak Ridge, Tennessee,
wo wir das American Museum
of Atomic Energy besuchen konnten.
Bei einem Zwischenstop an einer
riesigen Schleuse der Tennessee River
Valley Authority bewegten die
Zuständigen das gewaltige Schleusentor
– nur um uns ausländischen Studenten
zu zeigen, wie das geht – und
verbrauchten dabei eine elektrische
Energie, die eine deutsche Kleinstadt
einen Monat lang beleuchtet hätte.
Die Großzügigkeit und Gastfreundschaft,
die uns überall begegneten, war tief beeindruckend.
EINE AUFSCHLUSSREICHE EPISODE erlebte ich
noch in der Cherokee Indian Reservation. Dort fand ich
einen Laden mit der Aufschrift „Original Indian Handcraft“.
Es gab hübsche bemalte Totempfähle und dergleichen. Wie
ich einen davon in die Hand nahm und umdrehte, las ich
auf einem Boden den Stempel „Made in Japan“. Damit ging
ich zum würdigen Häuptling, der in seinem Federschmuck
das Geschehen mit halb geöffneten Augen verfolgte. Ich
meinte: „How come? Original Indian handcraft made in
Japan?“ Er musterte mich ruhig und entgegnete: „We are
here only 600 Indians but 4 million visitors come each year. What
do you want?“ Ich zog ab und widmete mich in der Freizeit
– zurück in Durham – wieder dem Sammeln von Volksliedern
aus den verschiedenen Nationen.
Auf dem neugotischen Turm der Duke University hatte
der dorthin ausgewanderte Sohn des Organisten der Kathedrale
von Antwerpen ein Carillon eingebaut, ein Instrument,
das ich von Holland und Flandern her kannte. Dort
durfte ich mehrmals zur Mittagsstunde jeweils eine der
Nationalhymnen spielen. Auch unter den amerikanischen
Nur um uns ausländischen
Studenten zu zeigen, wie das
Schleusentor funktioniert,
haben sie eine elektrische
Energie genutzt, die eine
deutsche Kleinstadt einen
Monat lang beleuchtet hätte.
Studenten des Campus fanden sich musizierende Freunde
zum häufigen Gang in das Music Department, das ca. 2 Kilometer
entfernt im Girls Campus angesiedelt war.
Vom Taschengeld, das wir am ersten Tag erhielten, hatte
ich bis zum Ende des orientation center ca. 100 $ sparen können.
Um diesen Betrag zu erhöhen, buchte ich zur Rückfahrt
nach New York (ich durfte das Polytechnic Institute of
Brooklyn – damals eine der besten Chemie-Schulen – für
mein Studienjahr wählen) den Greyhound Bus anstelle des
zur Verfügung gestellten Pullman tickets. In Richmond, Virginia,
war in einen Direktbus nach New York über Washington,
D.C. zu wechseln. Neben mir saß ein junger Mensch,
der ebenfalls nach Manhattan wollte und mit dem ich
in ein anregendes Gespräch kam. Im Busbahnhof Washington
hielten wir direkt vor einem men’s room. Ich bat meinen
Nachbarn, eine Minute lang auf meine Jacke und meine
Tasche (im Gepäcknetz – der Koffer war aufgegeben worden)
aufzupassen. Als ich zurückkam, war der junge Mann
mit meiner Jacke, der Tasche und –
leider – auch mit Geld und meiner
Fahrkarte (beides in der Jacke) verschwunden.
Der Busfahrer konnte sich
an nichts erinnern, meinte aber er sei
noch lange genug da, bis ich den Verlust
gemeldet hätte. Der dispatch officer
nahm meine Meldung sachlich entgegen,
als ich jedoch zurückkam, war
„mein“ Bus abgefahren und damit auch
der Fahrer, der wusste, dass ich bis
New York bezahlt hatte. Nur mit Hilfe
des dispatch officers nahm mich ein weiterer New Yorker
Bus mit und lud mich am Samstag, 4. September 1953,
morgens ca. 4.00 Uhr im Busbahnhof Manhattan,
38. Straße, ab. Nur in Hemd und Hose hatte ich nicht
einmal einen dime, um die einzige Adresse, die ich in New
York kannte, anzurufen.
Über den Busbahnhof an der 52. Straße, wo auch nichts
abgegeben oder gefunden worden war, lief ich zu meiner
Adresse an der 110. Straße West. Dort war niemand anzutreffen.
Nachbarn sagten mir, es sei Labor Day Weekend
(inklusive Montag) und fast alle seien verreist.
IN ERINNERUNG HATTE ICH, dass ich die
ersten beiden Nächte bis Semesterbeginn im YMCA Brooklyn
verbringen sollte und machte mich dorthin (hungrig)
auf den Weg. Angekommen gegen 19.00 Uhr verlangte
man 2 $ für die erste Nacht. Hatte ich nicht. „No Dollar, no
bed” endete die Anfrage.
Meine nun einsetzenden Versuche, einen Job zu finden,
scheiterten bis gegen 21.30 Uhr am Fehlen einer Social Security
Card. Dann erst fand ich Arbeit: Müll schaufeln für
1,25 $ / Stunde, vier Stunden lang in einem 24 Stunden

Dr. Werner Freiesleben wurde 1929 in Augsburg
geboren. Er studierte 1949-53 in München Chemie.
Sein Fulbright-Jahr verbrachte er in New York
City. Danach promovierte er in physikalischer
Chemie 1958 an der Universität Basel. Er
arbeitete bei Wacker Chemie GmbH, München
(1958-88) wo er, u.a. 14 Patente geforscht hat
und u.a. in Indien, Mexiko, und Brasilien tätig
war. 1978 übernahm er den Vorsitz in der
Geschäftsführung der Chemitronics GmbH
(bis 1988), gründetet 1978 die Siltronic Corp. in
Portland, Oregon, und 1983 die Wacker Chemicals
East Asia Ltd. in Tokyo. 1988-93 verbrachte er in
Brüssel als Director des European Council of Vinyl
Manufacturers. 1993 wechselte er zur Treuhand
Anstalt, Berlin als Vorsitzender der Geschäftsleitung
der Freiberger Elektronik-Werstoffe GmbH,
die er bis 1996 erfolgreich sanieren und privatisieren
konnte. Im Lauf seiner Tätigkeiten hat er
mehrere Bücher geschrieben und wurde 1984 mit
dem Bundesverdienstkreuz ausgezeichnet.
In seiner freien Zeit sammelte Freiesleben Volkslieder.
Hier versucht eine Kommilitonin ihm die Indische
Nationalhymne beizubringen.
4 5
offenen Lokal. Erst dann gab es Essen und YMCA mit
Dusche. Am Sonntag abend durfte ich wiederkommen, vier
Stunden zu 5 $ insgesamt. Das half mir über den Labor Day
am 6. September.
Am Dienstag war endlich das Institute for International
Education auf und ich konnte meine Geschichte berichten.
Mit großem Bedauern wurde ich getröstet, man kümmerte
sich um meine verlorenen Habseligkeiten, die sich auch fanden
(ohne Geld) und ein Direktor des Instituts fragte mich,
ob ich mit ihm und seiner Familie bis zum Studienbeginn
nach Mount Kisko in sein Feriendomizil fahren wolle, wo
ich seiner ältesten Tochter, die zum Studium in die Schweiz
sollte, Deutschunterricht erteilen könnte. Tief dankbar
nahm ich das Angebot an, und fand mich so nach zwei
Tagen in einer luxuriösen Villa in Connecticut als Hauslehrer
für Deutsch mit eigenem Zimmer, Bad und allem
Komfort.
Das war der Beginn meines Fulbright-Jahres 1953-54.
Mit meiner damaligen Schülerin bin ich immer noch sehr
freundschaftlich verbunden.

Das Glück
ausgewählt worden zu sein
von Weddig Fricke
DIE ZEIT ALS FULBRIGHT-STIPENDIAT ist für
mich ein Meilenstein der Erinnerung. Damals war ich 23
Jahre alt mit gerade abgeschlossenem Jurastudium an der
Freiburger Albert-Ludwigs-Universität, heute bin ich 73
und Seniorpartner bei meiner eigenen Anwaltskanzlei Dr.
Fricke & Partner.
Ich berichte – im Rahmen der vorgegebenen Länge des
Erinnerungsbeitrags – nicht eigentlich über meine Studienzeit
in den USA, sondern über einige Vorkommnisse und
Kuriositäten im Zusammenhang mit dem Stipendium, von
denen ich meine, dass sie sich als Besonderheiten speziell
„meines Falles“ darstellen.
Unvergessen ist der Moment, als der AStA-Vorsitzende
mir – es sei mit Verlaub gesagt – auf der Herrentoilette der
Freiburger Mensa, zufällig „neben mir stehend“, zu meiner
Wahl gratulierte. Da hält man vor freudiger Überraschung
„spontan inne“. Ich konnte es nicht fassen, dass von ursprünglich
einmal ca. 400 Bewerbern die Wahl ausgerechnet auf
mich (neben 5 anderen) gefallen war. Dass die juristische
Fakultät – dies war die erste Hürde – mich empfohlen hatte,
war objektiv nicht gerechtfertigt,
denn meine Durchschnittsnoten
waren nur „befriedigend“. Hier muss
wohl ein mir besonders wohlgesonnener
Professor seine Hand im
Spiel gehabt haben. Den Sprachtest –
zweite Hürde – hatte ich nur wegen
Übermüdung des amerikanischen
Offiziers, der die Prüfung vornahm,
bestanden: Auf der Schule hatte ich
kein Englisch gehabt. Als ausgesprochene Blamage
schließlich hatte ich – dritte Hürde – meinen Auftritt vor
der Auswahl-Kommission empfunden. Jeweils zu dritt wurden
wir (inzwischen waren noch ca. 80 Bewerber im Rennen
geblieben) aufgerufen, um vor einen erlauchten Kreis, bestehend
aus Universitätsprofessoren, Vertretern des öffentlichen
Lebens, der Industrie- und Handelskammer, der örtlichen
Angestelltengewerkschaft und des AStA-Vorsitzenden, Rede
und Antwort zu stehen. Während die beiden anderen Kandidaten
rechts und links neben mir sich durch Eloquenz und
Wissen auszeichneten, kam ich mir wie ein Stotterer vor, der
die gestellten Fragen meistens verneinte oder keine Antwort
darauf wusste. Nicht einmal die Frage, ob ich an einem Seminar
über Fragen der Jugendkriminalität teilgenommen
habe, konnte ich bejahen, obwohl ich diese Rechtssparte in
dem Fragebogen als besonderes Interessengebiet vermerkt
hatte. Bis heute weiß ich nicht, was das gestrenge Gremium
bewogen hat, mich den anderen vorzuziehen. Vielleicht hatte
ihnen meine Kühnheit imponiert, dass ich mich überhaupt
Und dann New York.
Die Einfahrt in den Hafen,
als der Morgen dämmerte
und die Sonne aufging: Die
Freiheitsstatue, die Silhouette
der Wolkenkratzer ...
beworben hatte. Oder es war schlichtes Mitleid, das –
verwandelt in Sympathie – einem Hilflosen bekanntlich
oft entgegengebracht wird. Diese Vermutung reimt sich
allerdings nicht mit der seinerzeit – Krieg und Naziherrschaft
waren erst seit acht Jahren vorbei – prononciert
herausgestellten Maxime, dass ein Fulbright-Stipendiat aus
der Bundesrepublik Deutschland in den USA als ein besonders
würdiger Repräsentant der deutschen Nachkriegsgeneration
in Erscheinung treten müsse.
ZU DEM GLÜCK, überhaupt ausgewählt worden zu
sein, kamen noch zwei weitere Überraschungen: Erstens war
die Universität, der ich zugewiesen wurde, vom Ort und
Klang ihres Namens her die schönste, die man sich erträumen
konnte: USC (University of Southern California in Los
Angeles). Die zweite freudige Überraschung war die, dass
ich zu einer Gruppe Stipendiaten gehörte, welche die Schiffsreise
von Genua aus antrat, und zwar auf der legendären
‚Andrea Doria‘. Natürlich war es nur die Touristenklasse, in
der wir untergebracht waren, auf der ‚Andrea Doria‘ aber war
auch die Touristenklasse traumhaft. Und dann New York,
die Einfahrt in den Hafen, als der Mor-
gen dämmerte und anschließend die
Sonne aufging: Die Freiheitsstatue, die
Silhouette der Wolkenkratzer ... Man
kann eine Ankunft von heute nicht im
entferntesten vergleichen mit einer
Ankunft im Jahre 1953.
Ab New York allerdings gab es
dann nicht mehr die Geborgenheit der
Gruppe, nicht mehr die Gemeinsamkeit
des Erlebens. Da war man plötzlich auf sich allein gestellt.
Eine gewisse Beklemmung blieb nicht aus. Die fehlenden
Sprachkenntnisse machten mir zu schaffen. Denn ich wusste
nicht viel mehr, als dass Hotel auf Englisch auch „hotel“
heißt und dass das Wort Bett auf Englisch fast genauso
klingt wie auf Deutsch. Ich kann es – rückblickend – nur
auf die Unbekümmertheit der Jugend zurückführen, dass ich
auf der zweitägigen Besichtigungstour durch New York
doch vollen Genuss empfand, ich beispielsweise im lift des
Empire State Buildings keine Schwierigkeiten hatte und
auch mühelos zum New Yorker Hauptbahnhof fand, wo ich
die Fahrkarte nach Los Angeles zu kaufen hatte. Über die
ganz ungewohnten und unglaublichen Entfernungen in
diesem Land machte ich mir keine näheren Gedanken. Ab
Chicago fuhr ich mit dem Pullman-Zug „Baltimore-Ohio“,
die Fahrt bis Los Angeles dauerte drei oder gar vier Tage.
Was mir von dieser Fahrt in amüsanter Erinnerung ist, ist
die Tatsache, dass die Reisenden mitunter über längere Zeit
hinweg, mitunter auch nur für eine halbe Stunde, keine

alkoholischen Getränke bestellen konnten, weil der Zug
gerade durch einen „trockenen“ Bundesstaat fuhr oder nur
durch den Zipfel eines solchen Staates.
Die Situation an der USC, speziell an dem mir zugewiesenen
Institute for Juvenile Justice and Delinquency gestaltete
sich für mich eigenartig, es war mehr eine Polizisten-
Ausbildung. Hundeführung und Umgang mit Schusswaffen
gehörten dazu. Vor allem aber Besuche von diversen Strafanstalten,
sowohl für Jugendliche als auch für Erwachsene.
In San Quentin bekam ich die Gelegenheit, die Gaskammer
zu besichtigen, und es wurden mir die mit einer Hinrichtung
verbundenen Einzelheiten, insbesondere der Geschehensablauf,
erläutert. Ich bekam sogar die Einladung, bei
einer Hinrichtung im Oktober 1954 dabei zu sein. Der
Delinquent hieß Caryl Chessman, der seinerzeit wohl
prominenteste Todeskandidat in Amerika. Er war, in der
Todeszelle an die 10 Jahre auf seine Hinrichtung wartend,
literarisch in Erscheinung getreten und hatte als Autor
großen Erfolg gehabt. Die Einladung zu seinem letzten
Gang freilich habe ich höflich abgelehnt. Ich war damals
schon entschiedener Gegner der Todesstrafe. (Tatsächlich
wurde Chessman auch erst 1960 hingerichtet.)
NATÜRLICH HABE ICH mich während des Studienaufenthalts
auch ernsthaften Dingen zugewandt, habe,
wie es erwartet wurde, auch ein master’s degree erworben. Die
Magisterarbeit hatte das deutsche Scheidungsrecht zum
Gegenstand, sie wurde lektoriert und auszugsweise sogar
veröffentlicht in the American Journal of Comparative Law.
Auch habe ich gute Fortschritte im Erlernen der englischen
Sprache gemacht, von der ich in grenzenloser Selbstüberschätzung
meinte, ich spräche sie ohne jeden Akzent, und
wenn Akzent, dann den von Kalifornien.
Berichtenswert könnte sein, wie ein aus Deutschland
kommender Student seinerzeit davon beeindruckt war, dass
praktisch jeder amerikanische Student sein eigenes Auto
besass – und wie herrlich und glitzernd diese Autos waren!
In Deutschland besass ein Student allenfalls ein Fahrrad. Der
Wunsch, ebenfalls Autobesitzer zu werden und nicht als
armes Würstchen zu erscheinen, steigerte sich in regelrechte
Gier. Aber woher das Geld nehmen? Von zu Hause hatte ich
nichts zu erwarten, meine Eltern lebten in der DDR. Und
was man von der amerikanischen Regierung im Rahmen des
Stipendiums zur Bestreitung des Lebensunterhalts bekam,
war so knapp bemessen, dass man nur bei äußerster
Sparsamkeit damit auskam. Ich meine mich zu erinnern,
dass es im Monat 150 Dollar waren, aber da kann ich mich
irren. Die Studentenbude, immerhin ausgestattet mit
Dusche und Kühlschrank, kostete 30 Dollar, allerdings nicht
gerade in einer guten Wohngegend gelegen. So also nahm
ich eine Arbeit an als stockboy bei Bullocks Downtown,
Abteilung Damenoberbekleidung, wobei es meine Aufgabe
war, die Kleidungsstücke, die den Kundinnen gezeigt worden
waren, wieder auf die Bügel zu hängen. Meine Chefin
(so eine Art Oberverkäuferin in der Abteilung) konnte oder
wollte sich meinen Namen nicht merken und bekundete
mir, sie werde mich „Fritz“ nennen. Ich verdiente 1 Dollar
die Stunde, wenig Geld für körperlich leichte und geistig
noch leichtere Arbeit, aber die Arbeitsbescheinigung half
mir, bei einer Bank einen 500-Dollar-Kredit zu bekommen,
6 7
wofür ich mein Traumauto erstand: ein Chevrolet Cabriolet,
Automatik mit Weißwandreifen, Baujahr 1949. Nie wieder
habe ich mich über ein Auto so sehr gefreut wie über dieses
Auto. Ich bin manchmal aus dem Bett aufgestanden, um es
mir auf der Straße bei nächtlicher Beleuchtung anzusehen.
In besonders schöner Erinnerung habe ich die zahlreichen
Parties, zu denen vor allem wohlhabende amerikanische
Familien Studenten aus aller Herren Länder einzuladen
pflegten. In der Regel waren es – im sonnendurchfluteten
Südkalifornien – Grillparties. Üblich war es, dass im Laufe
eines solchen Abends einer der eingeladenen Studenten das
Wort ergriff und sich im Namen aller Gäste bei den Gastgebern
bedankte. Als ich damit einmal an der Reihe war,
passierte es mir, dass ich statt für die entgegengebrachte hospitality
für die entgegengebrachte hostility dankte. Peinlich,
peinlich. Nur leider habe ich diese Geschichte auch mal von
jemand anderem, dem sie passiert sein soll, erzählt bekommen.
Seither habe ich Zweifel, ob meine Geschichte stimmt.
Ich berichte sie aber bona fide.
Dr. Weddig Fricke studierte Jura an der Freiburger Albert-
Ludwigs-Universität, bevor er 1953 in die USA ging, um
mit einem Fulbright-Stipendium an der University of Southern
California zu studieren. Vor 43 Jahren hat er die
Anwaltskanzlei Dr. Fricke & Partner in Freiburg mit
Büros in Dresden und Straßburg gegründet und ist jetzt dort
Senior Partner. Schwerpunktmäßig ist die Kanzlei auf das
Familien- und Erbrecht ausgerichtet. Auf diesen Rechtsgebieten
ist er publizistisch in Erscheinung getreten (Verlag
Karl Alber, Freiburg), ferner auf dem Gebiet des Rechts der
offenen Vermögensfragen (Verlag C.H. Beck, München).
Näheres ist im Internet unter www.dr-fricke-partner.de.
Nach Ablauf des einjährigen Stipendiums wurde meine
Aufenthaltserlaubnis noch um vier Monate verlängert. Ich
bekam eine Anstellung als sogenannter counselor beim
YMCA (Christlicher Verein Junger Männer) in Whittier, der
Geburtsstadt des späteren Präsidenten Richard Nixon, etwa
50 Meilen nordöstlich von Los Angeles. Die Gruppe, die ich
anfangs zu betreuen hatte, bestand aus ca. 20 fünf- bis sechsjährigen
Jungen. Meine Fächer waren swimming und Indian
dancing. So übte ich Indianertänze ein, erst für mich selbst
und dann mit den Kindern. Besonders eindrucksvoll waren
die „Tänze auf dem Kriegspfad“, die mit einem kleinen
Holzbeil in der Hand getanzt wurden. Man mußte darauf
achten, dass die Kommantschen anders tanzten als die
Apachen, und die Sioux tanzten noch wieder anders.
Kaum zu begreifen, dass ich doch wieder glücklich war,
als das Schiff – dieses Mal war es die ‚Saturnia‘, ein alter italienischer
Dampfer aus dem Jahre 1929 – von New York in
Richtung Europa ablegte. Ich hatte plötzlich Sehnsucht nach
dem Krähen eines Hahnes am frühen Morgen oder nach einer
typisch deutschen kleinen Stadt und trat meine erste Referendarstation
beim Amtsgericht in Überlingen (Bodensee) an.

Wie das Fulbright Stipendium
mein Leben beeinflusste
von Hellmut Golde
DAS JAHR WAR 1953. Ich stand kurz vor dem
Abschluss als Diplom Ingenieur der Elektrotechnik an der
Technischen Hochschule München und wusste nicht so
recht, wie mein Leben weiter gehen sollte. Ich hatte mir
durch Zeitungsverkauf auf den Straßen Münchens das Studium
ermöglicht und sollte mich eigentlich nach einer festen
Arbeit umschauen. Da sah ich einen Anschlag an der TH,
das man sich um ein Fulbright Stipendium in den USA
bewerben konnte und ich schickte kurz entschlossen meine
Bewerbung ein. Zunächst kam ich auf die Warteliste, aber
dann klappte es doch: ich bekam ein Reisestipendium und
außerdem eine bezahlte Stelle als Assistent im Mikrowellenlabor
der Stanford University.
Heute klingt das vielleicht seltsam, aber ich hatte
damals nie etwas von dieser Universität gehört, aber Kalifornien
als Aufenthaltsort war doch sehr ansprechend. An
der Universität war mir vieles ungewohnt: Mit Hausarbeiten
und Prüfungen gleich nach Abschluss einer Vorlesung sah
die Universität zunächst wie eine
deutsche Oberschule aus. Auf dem
Campus war Alkoholverbot, die
Geschlechter waren in den Studentenhäusern
streng getrennt, und Studentinnen
mussten abends zu einer
bestimmten Zeit in ihren Studentenheimen sein.
Im Mikrowellenlabor lernte ich schnell sehr viel, und
schloss dort meine ersten Freundschaften. Auch der Cosmopolitan
Club, in dem sich amerikanische und ausländische
Studenten trafen, half mir beim Einleben in Stanford. Mit
anderen ausländischen Studenten machte ich mehrere Reisen
im Westen der USA und schloss auch viele Freundschaften
in meinem Wohnheim.
Obwohl mein Aufenthalt für ein Jahr geplant war, konnte
ich meine Assistentenstelle um ein Jahr verlängern, und
schloss dann mit dem master of science ab. Auch lernte ich in
Stanford meine zukünftige Frau kennen, die auch Studentin
in Stanford war, wenn auch damals eine Ehe nicht auf dem
Programm stand.
1955 GING ES DANN WIEDER NACH
DEUTSCHLAND ZURÜCK. Zunächst arbeitete ich im
Betrieb meines Vaters, der nach dem zweiten Weltkrieg eine
Plastik-Verarbeitung gegründet hatte. Ich hatte den Wunsch
zu promovieren, aber das war damals nicht so leicht, denn
bezahlte Assistentenstellen gab es an deutschen Hochschulen
kaum. Stellungen in meinem Fach in der Industrie gab es
schon, ich bekam auch ein oder zwei Angebote, aber es war
nichts, was mich wirklich interessierte.
So wanderte ich 1956 in die USA ein, was nicht allzu
schwierig war. Damals gab es Länderquoten, und die
Heute klingt das vielleicht
seltsam, aber ich hatte damals
nie etwas von Stanford gehört.
deutsche Quote war nicht ausgefüllt. Eine Familie in der
Nähe von Stanford, mit der ich mich sehr angefreundet hatte,
wurden meine Sponsoren, Stanford gab mir wieder eine
Assistentenstelle im Mikrowellenlabor, und so fing ich im
Herbst 1956 mit dem Doktorandenstudium an. Ende der
fünfziger Jahre machte ich meine erste Bekanntschaft mit
elektronischen Rechenmaschinen, was für meine spätere
Laufbahn von Bedeutung wurde. Auch meine Dissertation
auf dem Gebiete der Mikrowellenelektronik profitierte von
der Auswertung mehrerer komplizierter Formeln.
Im Frühjahr 1957 heiratete ich Marcy Johnson und wir
mieteten uns ein kleines Häuschen ganz in der Nähe der
Universität. Im Sommer 1959 war ich dann ein frischgebackener
„Ph.D.“ und meine Frau und ich machten erst einmal
eine längere Europareise.
Ich nahm ein Angebot als assistant professor der Elektrotechnik
an der Staatsuniversität von Washington an und
im Januar 1960 gingen wir nach Seattle, wo wir auch heute
noch wohnen.
Wenige Jahre nach unserer Ankunft
in Seattle, wandelte sich meine Karriere
an der Universität. Ich schulte
mich langsam selbst auf Informatik
um. Ende der sechziger Jahre entwickelte
eine Gruppe Professoren verschiedener Fachrichtungen
ein Graduiertenstudium in Informatik (master of science and
doctor of philosophy), das sich dann im Laufe der Zeit zu einer
der erfolgreichsten Fachrichtungen entwickelte. Ich war bis
1992 voll als Professor der Informatik beim Aufbau dieser
Fachrichtung beteiligt, wie auch bei der Entwicklung der
Infrastruktur für Rechner und Rechnernetze an der Universität.
MEINE FRAU UND ICH haben uns in Seattle sehr
gut eingelebt; unsere drei Kinder sind alle selbständig und
uns eine große Freude, wie auch unser zweijähriger Enkelsohn,
der bei uns in der Nähe wohnt. Wir reisen öfter nach
Deutschland, um Familie und alte Freunde zu besuchen.
1974-75 verbrachten wir ein Jahr als sabbatical an der Technischen
Universität Karlsruhe.
Ich bin jetzt im Ruhestand, engagiere mich aber ehrenamtlich
bei der retirement association der Universität. Oft
denke ich noch an meine ersten Jahre in Stanford zurück,
komme jetzt auch von Zeit zu Zeit dorthin, da meine älteste
Tochter in der Bay Area wohnt. So kann ich bei diesen Gelegenheiten
auch alte Freunde aus der Studienzeit in Stanford
besuchen.
Und ich darf dem deutschen Fulbright-Programm zum
50. Jubiläum noch meinen Dank für mein damaliges
Stipendium aussprechen, das ja mein Leben auf eine damals
völlig unerwartete und erfolgreiche Bahn lenkte.

Auch nach 50 Jahren – immer noch
Danke Amerika
von Hans Karl Kandlbinder
ALS ICH MICH ALS EINUNDZWANZIG-
JÄHRIGER mit einigen anderen glücklichen jungen
Deutschen am 31. August 1953, ausgestattet mit 25 US
Dollar in bar in Genua auf dem damals noch ziemlich
neuen Luxusliner ‚Andrea Doria‘ (deren Jungfernfahrt erst
kurz vorher stattgefunden hatte) in Richtung Neue Welt
einschiffen konnte, war ein Lebenstraum dank USamerikanischer
Stipendien für mich Wirklichkeit geworden.
Schon vor dem Abitur (1951) am humanistischen
Gymnasium meiner Heimatstadt Passau hatte ich mich
vergeblich um einen Schüleraustausch nach den USA
bemüht. Auch Bewerbungen für einen USA-Studentenaustausch,
die ich aus meinen ersten Semestern von München
aus einreichte, blieben erfolglos. So ging ich mit einem
innerdeutschen Austauschprogramm im Sommersemester
1953 zur neugegründeten Freien Universität nach Berlin
und erlebte dort hautnah den „17. Juni 1953“, als der
Volksaufstand in Ostdeutschland gegen die kommunistische
Diktatur niedergeschlagen wurde.
Meine USA-Bewerbung hielt ich aufrecht und Mitte
Juli 1953 erreichte mich eine interessante Anfrage vom IIE
(International Institute of Education) aus New York, wo
damals die Stipendienbewerbungen offenbar verwaltungsmäßig
zusammengefasst wurden, mit folgendem Inhalt:
Wenn ich ein Stipendium nach USA bekäme, könnte es
doch sein, dass ich dort gelegentlich zu einem Vortrag eingeladen
würde, weshalb man wissen möchte, worüber ich
dann reden würde. Das Thema „Der 17. Juni 1953“ mit
dem Untertitel „Berlin, die Insel im Roten Meer“ drängte
sich geradezu auf und in diesem Sinne antwortete ich auch.
Diese Antwort zündete! Noch im gleichen Monat Juli
wurde ich nach Bonn zu einer Vorbereitungstagung eingeladen,
wo ich Näheres zu meinen Stipendien erfuhr: Ein
Fulbright Travel Grant eröffnete mir ein Stipendium des
damaligen Rotary Club Districts 278 unter Federführung
des Rotary Clubs Durham, North Carolina für das
akademische Jahr 1953-54 an der Duke University in
Durham, North Carolina wobei ein Duke scholarship die
schon damals recht teuren Kosten von tuition and fees der
Privat-Universität deckte. Ich hatte die einzige ‚Verpflichtung‘,
die eigentlich eine Freude war, bei Anforderung von
Rotary Clubs des Distrikts jeweils einen zwanzigminütigen
Vortrag bei entsprechenden Meetings zu dem von mir
angegebenen Thema zu halten.
ES WAR DAMALS NICHT LEICHT, innerhalb
von vier Wochen alle Impfungen, Papiere und Visa zusammen
zu bekommen. Aber als ich einmal wegen dieser
kurzen Zeit vorsichtig monierte, replizierte die Dame des
US-Generalkonsulats, welche die Stipendienangelegenhei-
8 9
ten regelte, schlagfertig: „Seien Sie froh, dass Sie kein
Telegramm erhalten haben mit den Worten: Bitte reisen
Sie gestern!“ Beim US-Generalkonsulat in München wurde
ich dann noch zu einem jungen Konsul allein ins Büro
gebeten, der sich zunächst mit mir über meine USA-
Erwartungen unterhielt, aber plötzlich sprang er auf, holte
eine Kerze aus seinem Schreibtisch heraus, stellte sie auf,
zündete die Kerze an und forderte mich auf, die Eidesformel
nachzusprechen, wonach ich mich verpflichtete,
dieses US-Stipendium niemals dazu zu benutzen, um in die
USA einzuwandern. Ich habe diesen Eid sehr ernst genommen
und von dieser eidlich beschworenen Verpflichtung
immer gleich erzählt, wenn sich zarte Bande zu entwickeln
schienen, damit ja keine Hoffnungen bei den Freundinnen
aufkommen konnten.
IN MEINER HEIMATSTADT PASSAU stand es
natürlich in der Zeitung, dass Hans Kandlbinder ein USA-
Stipendium erhalten hatte – aber dies hatte leider nicht
nur positive Reaktionen zur Folge: Einer meiner konservativen
Gymnasiallehrer, ein langjähriger Duz-Freund meines
Vaters, sprach auf offener Straße sichtlich wirsch meinen
Vater an: „Karl, Dein Sohn, der spinnt!“ Warum, fragte
mein Vater zurück. „Weil er nach Amerika geht zum
Studieren; der ist für unsere Kultur verloren!“ Als mein
Vater darauf nichts antwortete, schloss sein Freund: „So,
Karl, du billigst das auch noch. Dann sind wir zwei
geschiedene Freunde!“ Sprach’s, drehte sich um und ging
weg – und so lange beide lebten, wechselten sie nie wieder
ein Wort miteinander.
„Seien Sie froh, dass Sie kein Telegramm
erhalten haben, mit den Worten:
,Bitte reisen Sie gestern!‘“
Mein Vater hatte mir schon vor meiner Abreise noch
im August 1953 von dieser Meinungsäußerung eines
immerhin in der Kleinstadt geachteten Intellektuellen
erzählt, weshalb ich mit meinen Amerika-Erfahrungen von
Anfang an sehr nachdenklich umging und nichts unkritisch
rezipierte. Noch heute aber kann ich sagen: Dieses
Amerika-Stipendium war der höchste Segen, der mein
Leben positiv radikal beeinflusst hat, vor allen mein
Demokratieverständnis wurde implantiert, wenn auch
naturgemäß weniger Positives nicht fehlte.
Zu diesen wenigen negativen Erlebnissen gehörte folgendes
gleich bei der Einschreibung: Dean Weatherspoon gab
mir das Einschreibeformular und musste sich gleich die
erstaunte Rückfrage gefallen lassen, was ich denn unter der

Rubrik „race“ einsetzen müßte, denn es kann doch hier wohl
nicht sein, dass ich wie 1937 als Bub im Turnverein „arisch“
schreiben müsse. „Oh, no,“ meinte Mr. Weatherspoon, „black
or white is enough“. Ich setzte „white“ ein, aber brachte Mr.
Weatherspoon in nachdenkliche Verlegenheit, als ich ihn
fragte: „What is the difference between the question black/white
and arian/jewish?“ Heute, das weiß ich inzwischen, darf man
auch an der privaten Duke University eine solche Frage nach
dem „race“ im Einschreibeformular nicht mehr stellen. Im
übrigen bin ich dem Undergraduate College und damit der
Oberhoheit von Dean Weatherspoon schnell entkommen,
Dr. Hans Karl Kandlbinder, wurde 1931 in Passau geboren.
Nach umfassender Ausbildung in Europa und Amerika
(Dipl.-Kfm. und Dr. phil., Universität München, AM,
Duke University, Durham, NC) war Kandlbinder stets auf
dem Finanzsektor tätig: Bei Deutsche Bank (1958-62), auf
Industrieseite (u.a. 12 Jahre Finanzdirektor bei Philips in
Hamburg und in Eindhoven) und zuletzt im Vorstand einer
Münchener Lebensversicherung; seit 1985 ist Kandlbinder mit
seiner Investment-Beratung für institutionelle Anleger als
Fondsspezialist international tätig. Er gilt als einer der Väter
des Anlagemediums Spezialfonds. Jährlich kommentiert Kandlbinder
die aktuelle Spezialfonds-Lage. Seit 1998 erscheinen
diese Studien jährlich, u.a. unter dem Titel „The Kandlbinder
Report“ in englischer Sprache in der Zeitschrift „Investment &
Pensions Europe“. Als Lehrbeauftragter für Betriebswirtschaftlehre
/ Finanzwirtschaft dozierte Dr. Kandlbinder 6
Jahre an der Universität Münster und 5 Jahre an der Universität
Passau.
denn nach einem Gutachten des Germanistik-Professors der
Duke University Dr. Vollmer wurde ich
gemäß meinem Antrag sofort in der Graduate School of
Arts and Sciences zugelassen, obwohl ich mein Zimmer im
undergraduate Wohntrakt behalten durfte.
ES GELANG MIR DANN an der Duke University
im akademischen Jahr 1953-54 in Prof. Dr. Robert Samuel
Rogers einen Magistervater zu finden, bei dem ich eine
thesis zu Gnaeus Maulius Volso, dem römischen Konsul des
Jahres 189 vor Christus ablieferte. Diese thesis baute ich
später weiter aus und sie wurde dann in deutscher Sprache
meine Dissertation zum Dr. phil. an der Ludwig Maximilians
Universität zu München bei Prof. Dr. Alexander Graf
Schenk von Staffenberg. Auch wissenschaftlich-akademisch
ist mein Jahr in den USA auf diese Weise mehr als fruchtbar
gewesen, denn die Möglichkeiten des wissenschaftlichen
Arbeitens in den Bibliotheksräumen der Duke University
waren unvergleichlich besser als in München. In
München durfte man damals noch nicht direkt an die
Regale der großen Bibliotheken gehen, die zudem noch
stark durch Kriegseinwirkung beeinträchtigt waren (z.B.
durch Auslagerungen, Brandverluste und dergleichen).
Während man in München für jedes Buch, das man ausleihen
wollte, einen Leihschein dreifach ausfüllen musste,
bekam man an der Duke University, wenn man ein Thema
wissenschaftlich bearbeitete, in der Bibliothek und zwar in
der Etage wo die betreffenden Fachbücher standen, einen
sogenannten carrel (d.h. einen kleinen Raum mit
Schreibtisch und offenen Regalen) zugewiesen, wo man bis
zu gut 100 Bücher aus der Bibliothek hinstellen durfte,
ohne auch nur einen Zettel ausfüllen zu müssen; in dem
carrel konnte man sich in aller Ruhe aus den Büchern handschriftlich
exerzieren, was man brauchte.
ZU DEN UR-ERFAHRUNGEN eines amerikanischen
Demokratie-Erlebnisses gehört in meinen besten Erinnerungen
folgender Vorgang: Zu Thanksgiving 1953 leistete
ich mir einen Besuch der Metropolitan Opera in New
York, wohin ich aus Kostengründen mit dem Greyhoundbus
gefahren bin; die Rückfahrt führte den Bus über Nacht
durch verschiedene Bundesstaaten, in denen jeweils andere
Verkehrgesetze galten. Überquerte der Bus eine Bundesstaatengrenze,
hielt der Fahrer an und verkündete, wie sich
die Fahrgäste (z.B. Farbige) ab jetzt (nach den gesetzlichen
Bestimmungen) zu setzen hätten (vorne oder hinten); als
Abschluss fügte er jene Worte hinzu, die mich zurecht so
beeindruckten: „Please, cooperate with the law!“. Und ohne
Murren setzten sich die betroffenen Fahrgäste um. Aus
dem römischen und noch mehr aus dem deutschen Rechtskreis
hatte ich noch gelernt, dass man Gesetzen
„gehorchen“ müsse. Der Gedanke des „Please, cooperate with
the law“ wird mich mein Leben lang faszinieren.
Ein Erlebnis der besonderen Art bescherte mir der
Musikdirektor der Duke University, Mr. Barnes, der
gleichzeitig das Glockenspiel der Duke Kathedrale schlug.
Bei Mr. Barnes hatte ich mich in dessen Chor vorgestellt,
da ich als ehemaliger Regensburger Domspatz eine gewisse
musikalische Vorbildung hatte. Mr. Barnes lud mich dann
als erstes ein, mit ihm den Duke Turm zu besteigen und
ihm beim Schlagen des Glockenspiels zuzuschauen. Plötzlich
bedeutete er mir durch Gesten, dass er etwas für mich
spielen wollte und es erklang weit schallend in die Umgebung
– ich konnte es kaum glauben, denn immerhin war
der Zweite Weltkrieg erst acht Jahre vergangen –
„Deutschland, Deutschland über alles ...“ Mr. Barnes hatte
das Lied natürlich bewusst gewählt, freute sich über meine
Reaktion und schob mir zwischen den Schlägen auf die
Tasten des Glockenspiels das Gesangbuch der methodistischen
Kirche zu, wobei er auf eine Seite hindeutete:
„Glorious things of thee are spoken, Christ the Lord ...“, Melodie
Haydn – dies war des Rätsels Lösung, aber ich habe mich
trotzdem über die deutschfreundliche Geste von Mr. Barnes
gefreut.
DEN VORTRAG ÜBER DIE „BERLIN REVO-
LUTION 1953“ habe ich dann tatsächlich nicht nur beim
Rotary Club Durham gehalten, sondern auch bei anderen
Rotary Clubs in North Carolina sowie in Alabama, Florida
und Kalifornien, wohin ich zum Abschluss des akademischen
Jahres mit einem 99-dollar-ticket eine für mich sagenhafte
Rundreise machte – sogar mit Abstechern nach
Mexiko und Kanada. Auch lokale Organisationen der
American Legion, also der Kriegsveteranen holten mich zu
meinem stets mit Überzeugung präsentierten Standardvortrag,
denn mit diesem Thema war ich ein gefragter Anti-
Kalter-Krieger auf der Seite der Freiheit.
Einmal erlebte ich eine echt mutige Beamtenzivil-

courage, wie das in Deutschland nie möglich gewesen wäre:
Ich hatte, wie damals üblich, ein USA-Visum für eine einmalige
Einreise in plus einmalige Ausreise aus den USA.
Die Versuchung war zu groß, in San Antonio, Texas den
Rio Grande mit der Straßenbahn zu überqueren und dann
in Cuidad Juarez in der Provinz Chiuahua sagen zu können:
„Ich bin auch in Mexiko gewesen“. Allein bei der Rückfahrt
holte mich auf der Brücke eine Streife aus der Straßenbahn
und brachte mich zur Befragung in ein gefängnis-ähnliches
Gebäude. Dort wies ich meinen Förderausweis als Austauschstudent
vor und erzählte von meinem Status als
Rotary Austauschstudent. Für den Beamten war dies das
Stichwort, da er erklärte, dass der derzeitige Präsident des
Rotary Clubs San Antonio ein Freund von ihm sei. Obwohl
es schon Samstag abend war, rief der Beamte seinen Freund
Howard James an, der auch innerhalb kürzester Zeit persönlich
erschien. Beiden musste ich nochmals meine story
erzählen und am Ende sagte der Grenzwächter sinngemäß
folgendes: Wir glauben das alles, aber eigentlich müßte ich
Sie jetzt hier festnehmen und ein Telegramm nach Washington
schicken. Das Telegramm würde sicherlich erst am
Dienstag beantwortet werden können und die Antwort
NOT SURPRISINGLY, my year as a Fulbright student
in the United States from 1953 to 1954 turned out
to be an important stepping stone towards a university
career in American literature at a time when such a career
was rather difficult to plan. In my application I had indicated
an interest in F. Scott Fitzgerald and the writers of
the so-called “Lost Generation.” When I found myself at
Cornell University, I was pleased with my good fortune.
Arthur Mizener had joined the English Department just
two years earlier. In 1951 he had published The Far Side of
Paradise: A Biography of F. Scott Fitzgerald, and I now realize
that the publicity surrounding this best-selling book must
have been responsible for the Institute of International
Education’s decision to send me to Cornell rather than a
different university.
I recall my first visit to Mizener’s office on September
22, 1953. I walked through the open door and found him
in his swivel chair with his legs up on his desk, as in the
then popular advertisement for Camel cigarettes. He got
up and walked behind me to open the door, which I had
closed automatically upon entering, and after this object
lesson in American academic traditions we began to talk
about Fitzgerald. Regulations being what they were, I
never actually got to attend any of his classes, nor did he
become my official advisor when I had managed to change
my status as a graduate student from a non-degree candi-
würde sicher lauten, mich wieder in die USA einreisen zu
lassen – und diese Entscheidung kann ich sofort auch treffen,
sprach’s und Howard James fuhr mich in seinem Auto
noch in das bescheidene Hotel, wo ich wohnte. Aber noch
viele Jahre habe ich Howard Jones wenigstens season’s greetings
gesandt, um mich bei ihm und seinem Beamtenfreund
zu bedanken. Jedenfalls einen solchen civic spirit hätte kaum
ein deutscher Beamter je aufgebracht. Auch darin wurde
Amerika für mich Vorbild, wie in vielen anderen Lebensbereichen.
Deshalb bin ich den amerikanischen Mäzenen dankbar,
so lange ich lebe. Selbst wenn meine Eltern Geld gehabt
hätten, hätte ich damals nicht im Ausland studieren können,
denn in den fünfziger Jahren herrschte ja noch
Devisenbewirtschaftung (selbst für die eingangs erwähnten
25 Dollar Taschengeld hatte ich eine Sondergenehmigung
der damaligen Bank Deutscher Länder)! Meiner alma Mater
Dukiana diene ich seit Jahrzehnten als Chairman of the
Alumni Admission Advisory Commission for Germany.
The Quest for the Real Gatsby
by Horst Kruse
10 11
date to degree candidate and begun to work on a master’s
thesis on Fitzgerald and his contemporaries. But Mizener
freely gave advice and told me where in New York City to
look for the less available texts of the so-called novels of
“flaming youth” that had been popular in the twenties but
not made it onto the shelves of the university libraries.
Having completed my studies and obtained my degree
(Robert E. Elias having served as advisor), I went up to his
office to thank him and say goodbye, and wisely refused
his offer to buy from me the rare volumes that were to
become the foundation of my Fitzgerald collection.
THE BENEFITS of a Fulbright scholarship are many
and varied, not the least of them being that of making
friends. At Cornell I met Matthew J. Bruccoli, who has
since become the world’s foremost Fitzgerald scholar and a
publisher of scholarly reference tools, as well as other
work. I came away from Cornell with one unresolved question
in particular, and it was that question, along with an
abiding interest in Scott Fitzgerald and books, that has
kept us talking for fifty years. In a footnote in The Far Side
of Paradise Mizener indicated that according to Fitzgerald’s
wife, Jay Gatsby, the protagonists of The Great Gatsby, “the
major literary character of the United States in the twentieth
century” (Harold Bloom), was based on “a Teutonicfeatured
man named von Guerlach” who was “in trouble
over bootlegging.” Because of its specific ethnic implica-

tions, the information registered with me, and I continued
to keep it in the back of my mind, hoping eventually to
be able to find more evidence. Bruccoli, for his part, also
decided to pursue the question. In 1975 he was able to
publish a note about a man named Max Gerlach who
probably gave Fitzgerald the idea for using the term “old
sport” as, what he calls, Gatsby’s “defining expression” and
who, moreover, was referred to as a “wealthy yachtsman,” a
contemporary euphemism for bootlegger. Bruccoli’s additional
statement that considerable searching had “revealed
little more about this Gerlach or von Gerlach” merely
served to stimulate our interest in the
matter. Our exchange of information
continued, and eventually I learned that
Bruccoli had been able to establish additional
facts in Gerlach’s biography: his
suicide attempt in 1939, his death in
1958, his service in the Ordnance Division of the American
Army in World War One, as well as definite references
to him, which use the nobility predicate “von Gerlach.”
Since much of what pertains to this Max (von) Gerlach
prior to 1924, the year in which the bulk of The Great
Gatsby was written, is directly or indirectly reflected in the
text of the novel, a renewed all-out search was called for.
AVAILING MYSELF OF INTERVIEWS AND
THE INTERNET as well as many archival and library
resources in Germany and the United States (including a
return to Olin, Kroch and Uris Libraries at Cornell), and
relying on the support of the Bruccoli Collection and
Bruccoli’s expertise, I was able to fill in gaps in Gerlach’s
biography and validate surmises about his person. Interviews
with the German von Gerlach families established
that he did not emmigrate from Europe. Ellis Island
archives record three arrivals of May Stork Gerlach, a U.S.
citizen, and establish that he was born on 12 October
1886 in Yonkers, NY. Volume 8 of the 9-volume set of
“Ordnance Officers called to duty in World War I” in the
National Archives II at College Park, MD, show him to
have served as first lieutenant from August 15, 1918, to
October 31, 1919. Military Intelligence Records in the
same archives provide a curriculum vitae that covers the
whole period from his boyhood to 1918 and indicate that
he was born of German parents. Most importantly, it
appears that he did not begin to call himself “von Gerlach”
until after the war, an “ennobling” name change that
may well be reflected in the change of James Gatz into Jay
Gatsby in Fitzgerald’s novel. “Von Gerlach” also is the version
of his name in one of the two U.S. District Court
records that testify to his activity as a bootlegger. While
some of the data suggest the need for further research,
enough solid facts have emerged to indicate beyond doubt
that Gerlach is the very man whom Fitzgerald himself
knew and whom, without ever actually using his name, he
referred to several times as the person who served as an
inspiration for his protagonist. But Fitzgerald also indicated
that in the process of writing his novel Gerlach eventually
failed him in his usefulness as a model.
Given the details that have been recovered, we can now
determine just how Fitzgerald managed to combine expe-
rience and creativity; and we can see more clearly just how
his creative imagination worked. This will not affect the
appreciation of his novel by the average reader. But it is of
great interest to the literary scholar. An exhaustive account
of the findings and their assessment in terms of the genesis
and the interpretation of The Great Gatsby will appear
in the first number of the new F. Scott Fitzgerald Review,
which should be available by July 2003—just about fifty
years after my Fulbright grant for a period of study at Cornell
gave a scholarly turn to my interest in F. Scott Fitzgerald
and suggested the quest that has now come to a
conclusion.
IN A MOVEABLE FEAST,
Hemingway has a line of praise for
the Leipzig publisher Bernhard
Tauchnitz, whose name had come
to stand for a most successful venture
in the continental distribution of the work of English
and American authors and the implicit promotion of international
understanding: “God Bless Tauchnitz.” In a similar
way, the name of J. William Fulbright, U.S. Senator
from Arkansas, has come to stand for a most successful
venture in the field of international education devoted to
the promotion of mutual understanding and cooperation.
His work and his legacy certainly deserve the same kind of
praise: “God Bless Fulbright.”
Fitzgerald managed to
combine experience and
creativity.
Prof. Dr. Horst H. Kruse attended Kiel University
before his Fulbright grant took him to Cornell University
in 1953-54. He earned an M.A. degree in American
literature and returned to Kiel to complete his doctorate.
From 1962-64 he held a Fellowship of the American
Council of Learned Societies for research at the University
of Pennsylvania, Harvard University, and the University
of California at Berkeley. In 1970 Kruse completed
his habilitation at Kiel. In 1972 he was appointed
to a chair in the English Department at the Universität
Münster, where he served as Head of American
Studies. A Professor Emeritus since 1994, he continues
to be a frequent visitor to American libraries and
research archives. Kruse has published numerous books
and articles on English and American literature in
Germany and the United States. He is an honorary
member of the Mark Twain Circle of America and an
editorial board member of the F. Scott Fitzgerald Review.
He is married and has two daughters.

Das Athen von Ohio
von Manfred Kulessa
OB DER ALTE SENATOR JEMALS
GEWUSST HAT, dass sein Name für uns ein gutes
Omen war? Das Fulbright-Jahr 1953-54 lebt in meiner
Erinnerung in der Tat als eine Zeit der Öffnung neuer Horizonte
voller Helligkeit. Das fing schon mit dem flotten und
gewinnenden management von Heinrich Pfeiffer an und setzte
sich während des ganzen Jahres in den USA fort. Nach der
Enge der Flüchlings- und Nachkriegszeit war das eine
befreiende und motivierende Erfahrung.
Ohio University in Athens: eine kleine Hochschule in
einer Stadt, die fast nur aus einem Campus bestand. Man
fand sich dort bald zurecht und sah sich sofort in das aktive
college-Leben einbezogen. Als special student ohne Abschlussambitionen
konnte ich meinen Studienplan ganz nach eigenen
Bildungsinteressen gestalten. So belegte ich vor allen
Dingen Vorlesungen und Seminare, die sich mit amerikanischer
Politik und Kultur befassten. Der Bogen reichte von
dem Studium der US-Verfassung und der Geschichte des
Wolkenkratzers bis zur Interpretation von T.S. Eliots „Vier
Quartetten“, die mich viele Jahre begleitet haben.
Erst später stellte sich heraus, dass zwei Hochschullehrer
sozusagen vom Rande her entscheidend prägenden Einfluss
hatten. John F. Cady war ein „old Asia hand“ von solidem
Kaliber. Ihm verdanke ich die Asien-Orientierung, die mich
ein ganzes Leben lang begleitet hat. Mein paper über ein
Indonesienthema gefiel ihm, und ich fand mich in sein Seminar
einbezogen. Damals besuchte uns z.B. Ngo Dinh Diem,
um sich als Hoffnungsträger vorzustellen, was ihm auch
gelang – bei allen außer unserem vietnamesischen Kommilitonen
Le Tuan Anh. Jedenfalls wurde bei Cady die Zeitgeschichte
Südostasiens faszinierend konkret und lebendig.
Dagegen wusste Leonard Pinsky, ein junger Philosoph
und mitreißend gescheiter Intellektueller, seinen Freundeskreis
auf soziale Fragen der unmittelbaren Umwelt
hinzuweisen. So besuchte er mit uns Hotels, Restaurants
oder Friseursalons, um das manifeste Übel zu diskutieren,
dass Schwarze (selbst in einem Nordstaat und eindeutig verfassungswidrig)
dort nicht bedient wurden – auch nicht
unsere Kommilitonen oder ihre Eltern. Für mich war das
eine unvergessliche Einführung in die friedliche Menschenrechtsarbeit,
wenn auch leider mit wenig unmittelbarem
Erfolg: Die Lokale blieben den Schwarzen verschlossen, und
Pinskys Berufung wurde nicht erneuert. (Ich vermute übrigens,
dass ich seinetwegen der einzige ausländische Student
blieb, der dem konservativen Vice Chancellor nicht
vorgestellt wurde.)
IM ÜBRIGEN fühlte ich mich gut aufgenommen,
ständig von Mitstudenten und Dozenten eingeladen, häufig
auch nach Hause zu den Eltern oder zu Ausflügen. Diese
Leute in Ohio, meist wohlmeinende Mittelständler, begegneten
mir freundlich und aufmerksam. Ich hatte immer das
12 13
Dr. Manfred Kulessa wurde im 1932 geboren. Er
machte 1951 in Wetzlar Abitur und studierte Jura
und Geschichte in Marburg, Ohio University in Athens
(Fulbright-Jahr), und Frankfurt am Main. Er promovierte
zum Dr. jur. mir einer rechtshistorischen Dissertation.
Seine Tätigkeiten sind in den Bereichen Studentenförderung,
akademischem Austausch, und
Ökumene und Entwicklungszusammenarbeit u.a. Er
war Geschäftsführer des Deutschen Entwicklungsdienstes,
Direktor im Entwicklungsprogramm der Vereinten
Nationen und arbeitete in Indien, Türkei, Nepal, New
York und China. Danach engagierte er sich ein Management.
Er war als Dozent (St. Gallen) und
Gutachter und Berater von VN und Regierungen tätig.
Zur Zeit ist Kulessa Honorarkonsul von Bhutan. Er
ist verheiratet und hat drei Kinder.
Gefühl, beliebt und geschätzt zu sein. Als am Beginn des
Winters deutlich wurde, dass ich keine warme Kleidung
hatte, ließ mir ein besorgter Freund anonym einen Kamelhaarmantel
zuschicken. Ich weiß bis heute nicht, wer sich
damals mit dieser liebevollen Geste als mein Nächster
bekannt hat.
Außerdem gab es viel Unterhaltung, auch den prom, den
ich mit einer reizenden Griechin besuchte, und dann natürlich
den Sport. Ich trainierte alles mögliche und unmögliche,
gewann Hochschulmeisterschaften in Tischtennis und
Schach, und als Deutscher musste ich natürlich auch in der
Fußballmannschaft mitspielen, was mit Reisen zu den
anderen 14 Hochschulen des Landes verbunden war. Mit
manchen Freunden blieb ich lange in Kontakt, einige haben
mich später sogar in Deutschland besucht.
AM ENDE HAT MIR DIE WELTGESCHICHTE
NOCH FAST EINEN BÖSEN STREICH GESPIELT.
Im Vertrauen auf einen Ferienjob an der Westküste hatte ich
mich für ein Sommerlager in Kalifornien angemeldet. Als
das vorbei war, stellte sich heraus, dass mit dem Koreakrieg
auch der Boom zu Ende gegangen war und keine Jobs zu
finden waren. Mir aber fehlte das Geld für die Rückreise
nach New York. Die Rettung kam in letzter Minute und
ganz unamerikanisch vom Arbeitsamt: Im Archivkeller der
Bank of America durfte ich fünf Wochen an einer Studie
mitarbeiten. Das reichte, zusammen mit dem Verkauf von
Kamera und Fußballschuhen, noch gerade für einen Mitfahrerplatz
im Studentenauto. So schaffte ich doch noch den
Anschluss an ‚SS Constitution‘ und die Rückkehr in die alte
Heimat.

Eine Leidenschaft
für das Land
von Werner Landschütz
TAUSEND WORTE, eine Kurzbiographie und ein Bild
waren die Vorgabe der Fulbright-Kommission Berlin. Eine
leichte Aufgabe - scheinbar. Ich ließ Revue passieren, die
seinerzeitige Auswahl, das Treffen in Bad Godesberg, der
mühelose Flug über den Atlantik, die lange Eisenbahnfahrt
durch das riesige vielgestaltige Land von New York über
Chicago nach Los Angeles, unvergleichliche sechs Wochen in
Claremont, Kalifornien mit Studenten aus allen Teilen dieser
Erde, die Woche mit meinem Austauschlehrer Lillie in San
Franzisko, die ersten turbulenten Tage am Oregon State College
in Corvallis, die Aufnahme des Studienbetriebs, Erfolge
und Fehlschläge, die zahlreichen Exkursionen und praktischen
Übungen in den umliegenden Wäldern und Sägewerken,
die erlebnisreichen Bergwanderungen mit dem
Akademischen Alpenklub, die lustige Volkstanzgruppe, der
urige Fernhoppersklub der Forststudenten und sein großes
Jahresfest mit Abordnungen mehrerer Forstschulen des
Beim Flug über den Atlantik dachte ich
an die Auswanderer, die in zerbrechlichen
Segelschiffen wochenlang dem Wind und
den Wellen ausgesetzt waren.
Westens, die Fahrten zu Weihnachten und Ostern in den
weiten Landschaften des Westens, dreizehn Wochen Einsatz
im Waldbrandschutz in Sweethome, Oregon und die sechswöchige
Rückreise nach New York über Yellowstone,
Bryce, Zion, die Carlsbader Höhlen, Florida, Washington
D.C. mit seinem reichhaltigen Naturkundemuseum, New
York mit dem unvergesslichen Metropolitan Museum und
mehreren weiteren privaten Kunstsammlungen und letztendlich
die Rückfahrt mit der ,MS Gripsholm‘ nach Bremerhaven.
Wahrlich ein buntes Kaleidoskop mit vielen Facetten
breitet sich vor mir aus. Welche soll ich herausgreifen? Ich
fokussiere meine Gedanken auf wenige Punkte, so schmerzlich
dies auch sein mag.
Aber vorab ein wichtiges persönliches Anliegen. Ich
danke allen Menschen, denen ich begegnet bin, für die
guten Gespräche, die selbstlose Hilfe, die zum Teil rührende
Anteilnahme und bitte alle, deren Erwartungen ich
möglicherweise nicht entsprochen habe, um Nachsicht.
Dankbar bin ich auch, dass mir nie eine Gefälligkeitsaussage
nahegelegt wurde. Ich kam als Europäer, durfte in den Vereinigten
Staaten viel Neues und Unbekanntes erfahren und
kehrte wieder nach Europa zurück.
BEIM FLUG ÜBER DEN WEITEN ATLANTIK
dachte ich an die Millionen von Auswanderern, die in zerbrechlichen
Segelschiffen wochenlang dem Wind und den
Wellen ausgesetzt waren. Viele darbten, einige wurden
krank, manch einer starb bereits bei der Überfahrt. An Land
gekommen, galt es, eine Existenz aufzubauen. Manch einer
ist verschollen, manch einer unter die Räder gekommen,
erschlagen, erschossen, verhungert, erfroren, verdurstet.
Diese Gedanken gingen mir durch den Kopf, während ich
mühelos über die Wolken schwebte oder im Pullmanwagen
dem Westen zutrieb. Bei aller freudigen Aufregung über
soviel Neues war ich bedrückt, fühlte mich irgendwie
schuldig.
IN CLAREMONT, KALIFORNIEN waren die
Begegnungen mit Studenten aus aller Welt überaus beeindruckend.
Sechs Wochen sind eine lange Zeit in dieser
Lebensphase junger Menschen. Wahrlich ein faszinierendes
Forum. Noch nie zuvor hatte ich einen leibhaftigen Maori
oder einen Philippino oder einen Japaner gesehen. Was gab
es da nicht alles zu erfahren und berichten. Und erst die exotischen
Mädchen und jungen Frauen aus Südostasien.
In San Franzisko war ich eine Woche lang mit meinem
früheren Austauschlehrer zusammen. Er zeigte mir die Stadt,
den Fischereihafen, die Golden Gate Brücke, die Redwood
Groves, den Fischereihafen und seine Alma Mater Stanford
mit seinem damals geheimnisumwitterten Turm. Mr. Lillie
war so ganz und gar mit meinen Wünschen vertraut. Dies
war wohltuend. Vor dem Krieg war Herr Lillie als Austauschstudent
in Königsberg und muss eine unbeschwerte
Zeit mitten unter seinen deutschen Kommilitonen erlebt
haben. Sein zweiter Aufenthalt 1952-53 in Deutschland verlief
anders. Er wirkte auf seine Umgebung ruhig, fast emotionslos,
zurückhaltend, und hätte nichts sehnlicher gewünscht,
als wenn jemand unbefangen und froh auf ihn zugegangen
wäre. Doch dazu kam es nicht. Das Lehrerkollegium war
wohl zu sehr mit sich selbst beschäftigt. Außer einigen
Englisch-Freiwilligen-Kursen war er nicht weiter in den
Lehrbetrieb eingebunden. Dort kannte er seine Schüler
genau und nahm an ihren Freuden, Hoffnungen und Sorgen
aufrichtig Anteil. Sein Abschied aus Rastatt war geräuschlos,
wie ich später in der Ferne erfuhr.
Aus dem Studienbetrieb greife ich vier Dinge heraus: das
Ehrensystem, die Gruppenleistung, die Kürze und Prägnanz
von Statements sowie das Verhalten vor und nach einer
Entscheidung. Bei der ersten schriftlichen Prüfung bald nach
Aufnahme des Vorlesungsbetriebs spickte ich nach rechts
und links wie ein Weltmeister. Meine Kommilitonen ließen

mich gewähren, machten mir aber nach der Prüfung klar,
dass sie mein Verhalten verabscheuten und sich dem Ehrensystem
verbunden fühlten, welches ein solches Fehlverhalten
nicht zuließ. Ich schwor dem Spicken ab und war wieder
unter den Ehrbaren.
Noch nie hatte ich an einer Gruppenarbeit teilgenommen,
mir war auch unklar, wie sie bewertet wird. Die
Gruppe, der ich zufiel, hatte die Aufgabe, das verwertbare
Holz eines konkreten Waldbestandes zu ermitteln und
darzustellen. In der gegebenen Zeit und auf Grund der
Technik war diese Arbeit von einem einzelnen nicht zu
bewältigen. Also musste die Gruppe zielsicher bestimmen,
wer welche Arbeiten macht. Zuerst mussten die Daten im
Wald erhoben und anschließend am Tisch ausgewertet und
dargestellt werden. Das ganze lief wie ein Uhrwerk, jeder
musste sich auf den anderen verlassen. Ich habe dieses Verfahren
später immer wieder angewandt, obwohl es offiziell
nicht vorgesehen war.
IN DER KÜRZE UND PRÄGNANZ sind die
Amerikaner nicht zu schlagen. Vielleicht liegt es auch an
der Sprache, oder vielleicht doch an den Beteiligten. Das
Verhalten vor und nach einer Entscheidung war für mich
immer Vorbild. Vor der Entscheidung werden die unterschiedlichen
Argumente vorgetragen und respektiert. Nach
der Entscheidung ordnet sich jeder ein, gleichgültig, ob seine
Vorstellungen durchschlugen oder nicht. Diese Bedenkenträger,
wie man sie hierzulande antrifft, habe ich in den Vereinigten
Staaten in der Häufigkeit nicht bemerkt.
In Corvallis, Oregon gab es am College einen Alpenklub.
Das war genau das richtige für mich. Wir bestiegen
die Vulkanberge der Kaskaden und waren bestens vorbereitet
zum Biwakieren im Freien. Der Schlafsack, den ich mir
damals zulegte, begleitete mich noch weitere zwei
Jahrzehnte auf meinen Reisen und Jagdfahrten. In die Jahre
gekommen und nicht mehr ansehnlich, ging er den Weg
alles Irdischen – nicht ungern gesehen von meiner späteren
Frau. Gelegentlich träume ich noch heute, wie er ohne Zelt
Kälte, Schnee und Regen trotzte. Mit dem Präsidenten des
Alpenklub, Jerry Cone, verband mich eine herzliche Freundschaft.
In den Achtzigern besuchte er mich zweimal in
Deutschland, es war auch ein Treffen in Kalifornien
abgemacht, doch dazu kam es nicht. Spurlos ist er verschwunden,
Nachforschungen von mehreren Seiten verliefen
Dr. Werner Landschütz machte 1953 Abitur. Er studierte 1953 bis 1958
Forstwissenschaft u.a. am Oregon State College in Corvallis und absolvierte zwischendurch
Praktika in den USA, Schweden und Yugoslawien. In 1968 promovierte
Landschütz als Dr. rer. nat. Von 1968 bis 1972 arbeitete er bei der Forstschule Cap
Estérias in Gabun, wo ihn Dienstreisen in die Zentralafrikanische Republik, nach
Kamerun, Elfenbeinküste, Kaukasus, und Südafrika führten. Von 1972-77 war er
bei der Landesforstverwaltung Baden-Württemberg tätig und erstellte E-Hilfe-
Gutachten für Lesotho und Algerien. In Zypern war er von 1977-79 Regierungsberater
der Staatsforstverwaltung und von 1979-98 arbeitete er als Ausbilder am
Forstlichen Ausbildungszentrum Mattenhof in Gengenbach u.a. bei der Betreuung von
Algeriern. In 1999 ging er zurück in den USA um einen Vortrag an der Mississippi
State University über Forstwirtschaft in Baden-Württemberg zu halten.
Landschütz (links) mit seinem ehemaligen Austauschlehrer Raymond Lillie
14 15
im Sande. Unerklärlich und bedrückend zugleich.
In Sweethome, Oregon konnte ich, wie schon erwähnt,
im Waldbrandschutz arbeiten. Das ganze bestand aus einem
Hauptquartier mit einem potenten Sender, einer Bodenmannschaft
mit kleinem Lkw sowie mehreren Waldbrandwachtürmen.
Ich war der Bodenmannschaft zugeteilt.
BEMERKENSWERT WAR, dass während der
ganzen Zeit kein Waldbrand zu bekämpfen war außer
einem kleinen Feuer gegen Ende meiner Zeit. Dies nutzte
mein Chef, ein Hüne von Mann, der während des Zweiten
Weltkriegs Bootsmann bei der Amerikanischen Kriegsmarine
im Pazifik war, um mich zu Vorträgen über Deutschland
in diesem kleinen verträumten Provinznest zu bitten.
In den anschließenden Gesprächen wurde die Erschütterung
spürbar, die das geheimnisumwitterte Abtauchen unseres
obersten Verfassungshüters John in Ostberlin auslöste, und
die Befürchtungen, die durch Zeitungsartikel wie „conquerors
conquered by the conquered“ geschürt wurden. Als nun tatsächlich
mal ein Feuer zu löschen war, traf die Bodenmannschaft
mit vier Stunden Verspätung am Brandort ein. Das hatte
Folgen. Die gesamte Bodenmannschaft wurde gefeuert mit
Ausnahme meiner Person. Bis zu meinem regulären Ausscheiden
verbrachte ich noch einige Tage in der Zentrale,
erhielt ein glänzendes Zeugnis und das Angebot, nächstes
Jahr eine besser bezahlte und anspruchsvollere Tätigkeit
mit eigenem Häuschen im Walde und nahegelegenem
Forellenbach auszufüllen. Zum Abschied gab man mir noch
ein kleines Stück Papier mit und machte mich darauf
aufmerksam, es sorgfältig aufzubewahren. Dieses Kärtchen
überstand die Jahrzehnte und bessert meine Rente auf. Was
damals keiner ahnte ist die später eingeführte Regelung,
diesen Betrag von der Pension wieder abzuziehen. So nah
liegt Freud und Leid beisammen.
Bei meiner Rückreise hatte ich reichlich Muße, herrliche
Landschaften und faszinierende Sammlungen anzuschauen.
Doch beschlich mich mit der Zeit auch das Gefühl, dass das
Dasein eines Profi-Globetrotters gar nicht so leicht sei.
Auch nagte das Heimweh, so dass das Hupen der Schiffssirene
beim Auslaufen aus dem Hafen von New York
Abschied und Aufbruch zugleich war. Ich hätte gerne noch
weiteres vorgetragen, doch meine Zeit ist abgelaufen.

Instructor aus Versehen,
Professor für das Leben
von Helmut Sauer
IM HERBST 1952 hatte ich mich für ein Studium in
den USA um ein Fulbright-Stipendium beworben. Ich kann
mich noch gut an die einzelnen Stationen des Bewerbungsprozesses
erinnern. Prof. Heise, den ich um eines der
geforderten Gutachten bat, sagte zu meiner Verwirrung, ich
möge bitte das Gutachten über mich selber schreiben und
ihm vorlegen. Als ich den Englischdozenten um Durchsicht
meines Eigengutachtens bat, lernte ich zum ersten Mal
etwas über amerikanische Mentalität und Verhaltensweise.
An Stellen, an denen ich mich mit „good“ charakterisiert
hatte, setzte er immer ein „excellent“. „Good“ wäre in Amerika
eher unserem „befriedigend“ gleich zu setzen, außerdem
ist man großzügig mit Lob. „Be quick
with praise and slow with criticism!“
lautet die Parole. Also für ein
Stipendium, das einem Lotterie-
Gewinn gleich kommt, ist nur ein
„excellent“ gut genug!
Genau erinnere ich mich an das
Interview in der „Brücke“, einem deutsch-englischen
Begegnungshaus in Göttingen, wo der einzige PH-Student
nach vielen Uni-Studenten ins Kreuzverhör genommen
wurde. Die Fragen betrafen meine Aktivitäten und Interessen,
und ich konnte tatsächlich alle flott beantworten.
Z.B. „Wann waren Sie zum letzten Mal im Theater?“
Antwort: „In der letzten Woche.“ „Was haben Sie gesehen?“
Antwort: „Emilia Galotti.“ „Was halten Sie von dem
Stück?“ Antwort: „Nicht mehr zeitgemäß. Ein Vater würde
heute seine Tochter nicht opfern.“ „Wie heißen die Abgeordneten
Ihrer Heimatstadt in Bonn?“..... Als ich nach etwa
20 Minuten den Raum verlassen durfte, war ich fest davon
überzeugt, die nehmen mich. Erst später wurde mir klar
warum.
LEBEN OHNE SCHLÜSSEL
Lawrence, Kansas, der Ort der University of Kansas, im
Mittleren Westen der USA, wirkte nicht sehr einladend
nach dem wunderschönen Madison, Wisconsin, wo ich eine
unvergessliche orientation period erlebt hatte. Im September
1953 war es dort heiß und trocken, der Rasen vor den
Häusern war nur dort grün, wo er dauernd bewässert
wurde. Alles Organisatorische klappte wieder vorzüglich.
Amerikaner überlassen nichts dem Zufall. Mit Hilfe des
Büros des foreign student advisor, William Butler, fand ich
eine Unterkunft. Ich konnte mich entscheiden zwischen
einem organized house on campus, was man gern wollte oder
einem privaten Zimmer off campus. Da ich meine privacy
wollte, plädierte ich für das private Zimmer. Es wurde ein
Zimmer im Keller des Hauses der Familie Richards. Bei
“What do you want the
keys for? We do not lock
the house!”
dessen Besichtigung ereignete sich diese von mir oft
erzählte Geschichte.
Nachdem ich mit Mrs. Richards über Zimmerpreis usw.
einig geworden war, erwartete ich, dass sie mir die Zimmerund
die Hausschlüssel geben würde. Als das nicht geschah,
sagte ich etwa: „Could I have the keys, please.“ Worauf sie
mich überrascht ansah und fragte: „What do you want the keys
for?“ Was für eine merkwürdige Frage. Man mietet ein
Zimmer, möchte selbstverständlich die Schlüssel, um seine
neue Wohnung in Besitz zu nehmen, und wird gefragt,
wozu man sie haben will. Ich habe verlegen geantwortet,
ich könnte ja mal spät nach Hause kommen und wie sollte
ich dann ins Haus kommen. Ihre
wahrlich entwaffnende Antwort: „We
do not lock the house, never!“
Well, so war das damals in Kansas.
Die Leute schlossen Haus und Wohnungen
nicht ab. Und noch schöner,
wenn sie verreisten, machten sie an
der Hintertür die meistens gelbe Lampe an, die soll Mücken
nicht so anziehen, so dass jeder wusste, die sind verreist! So
habe ich das ganze Jahr weder einen Zimmer- noch einen
Hausschlüssel gehabt. Diese Zeiten haben sich leider auch
in Lawrence geändert.
DA ICH IN DEUTSCHLAND schon die erste
Lehrerprüfung bestanden hatte, wurde ich an der University
of Kansas als graduate student eingestuft, was erhebliche Vorteile
hinsichtlich Freizügigkeit und u.a. der Bibliotheksbenutzung
hatte, wo ich meinen eigenen Arbeitsplatz bekam.
Es bedeutete aber auch zusätzliche Arbeit in einigen Seminaren,
z.B. courses für seniors. An einem der nächsten Tage in
der orientation week ereignete sich wieder einer dieser Zufälle,
die meistens Glücksfälle waren. Otto Suhling, ein
anderer deutscher Austauschstudent, machte mich darauf
aufmerksam, dass wir am nächsten Tag um 10 Uhr im German
Department zu sein hätten. Ich war überrascht, denn
davon wusste ich nichts und wunderte mich, warum das
wohl so war. Also ging ich mit Otto am nächsten Tag zum
German Department, wo wir freundlich als zukünftige
Assistenten begrüßt wurden. Merkwürdigerweise kam mir
nicht der Gedanke, dass es sich in meinem Falle um ein
Missverständnis handeln könnte, es klang alles normal und
einsichtig, dass nämlich diese Tätigkeit zu unseren Verpflichtungen
als Fulbright-Studenten gehörte. So erhielt ich
einen Stundenplan mit Anweisungen für einen regelmäßig
zu erteilenden Konversations-Unterricht in Deutsch, der
aber – welche Freude – nach der Anzahl der Wochenstunden
bezahlt wurde.

Ich freute mich über die zusätzliche Einnahme, von der
mir vorher niemand etwas gesagt hatte. Erst einige Wochen
später kam heraus, dass ich dazu nicht verpflichtet und
eigentlich nicht vorgesehen war, denn ich hatte ein volles,
alle Unkosten abdeckendes Stipendium. Otto und andere
aber hatten ein kleineres Stipendium, so dass ihre Lebenshaltungskosten
erst durch dieses zusätzliche Einkommen
gesichert waren. Da ich nun einmal eingeteilt war und das
Semester lief, ließ man es dabei und das auch im nächsten
Semester, denn inzwischen gehörte ich auch zur faculty, dem
Lehrkörper, des German Department. So hatte ich ein zusätzliches
frei verfügbares Einkommen, und erlebte KU als
Student im T-shirt und als Assistent in der vorgeschriebenen
Krawatte. Es geschah regelmäßig, dass ich mich auf der
Toilette vom Assistenten in den Studenten verwandelte oder
umgekehrt, die Krawatte umband. Die zusätzliche Arbeitslast
war aber auch beträchtlich und wurde durch eine
andere Entscheidung noch vermehrt.
MASTER OF SCIENCE IN EDUCATION
Professor Oscar M. Haugh, der mir zugeteilte Tutor, mit
dem ich im Rahmen der allgemeinen orientation week
besprechen musste, welche Kurse ich belegen wollte, hatte
andere Vorstellungen als ich, und er überzeugte mich, dass
es doch sinnvoll sei, einen master’s degree anzustreben. Und
so geschah es. Also planten wir einen master of science in Education
zu erwerben mit den Fächern Education und English
und stellten ein entsprechendes Programm zusammen.
Bedingung war, dass man in Seminaren mit insgesamt 32
Semester-Wochenstunden ein B average erreichte, also eine 2
als Durchschnittsnote. Das bedeutete zunächst, dass ich pro
Semester 16 Stunden belegen musste. 15 aber waren nur
erlaubt, was ich für unverständlich hielt, da ich nicht
wusste, wie stark die Belastung durch assignments war, die
gestellten Hausaufgaben. Dr. Haugh, er nannte mich Helmut,
ich ihn Doctor, aber hatte überall gute Beziehungen
und er erreichte natürlich eine Ausnahme-Genehmigung für
mich. Wenn wir uns begegneten, winkte er mit der Hand
und erhobenem Zeigefinger und rief „Hi Helmut!“, ich
winkte ebenso zurück und rief „Hi Doctor!“ Das war der
durchaus angenehme American way of life.
Die Nebeneinnahme aus Versehen machte mich gegen
Ende des zweiten Semesters zusammen mit dem Fulbright-
Mitstudenten Dr. med. Ullrich Diesing zum 50%igen Besitzer
eines vierjährigen Chevrolets und ermöglichte eine fast zweimonatige
Exkursion durch die Staaten. Und der master of science
in education (M.Sc.Ed.) war sehr hilfreich in meinem
späteren Werdegang. So wurde das Fulbright-Studium 1953-
54 zu einem prägenden und erfolgreichen Unternehmen.
16 17
EINE BEGEGNUNG MIT FULBRIGHT
1988 gehörte ich zu einer internationalen Gruppe „Fulbrighter“,
die den berühmten Senator J. William Fulbright
(1905-1995) persönlich kennen lernen konnten. Das Treffen
fand in einem historischen Restaurant in Alexandria bei
Washington D.C. statt.
In einer temperamentvoll und sehr selbstbewusst vorgetragenen
Tischrede kam der Senator der Bitte nach, darüber
zu berichten, wie die Idee zu dem später sogenannten
Fulbright-Austausch-Programm entstanden ist. Es war im
August 1945, Amerika war durch den Abwurf der Atombomben
auf Japan zur stärksten Weltmacht geworden und
stand damit vor neuen dramatischen Aufgaben, die es zu
bewältigen galt. Amerika würde in Zukunft in der Lage
sein müssen, die Rolle der führenden Weltmacht erfolgreich
ausfüllen zu können. Dazu war professionelles Weltwissen
notwendig, woran es in den USA mangelte, wie er aus seiner
Erfahrung als Oxfordstudent und als Politiker wusste.
So entstand die Idee, Amerikaner in die Welt zu schicken:
„My primary purpose was to teach the Americans about the world!
That was the main purpose.“ Der radikal demokratische Senator
Fulbright dachte zuerst als engagierter amerikanischer
Patriot! Der zweite Gedanke war dann der der Erhaltung
des Weltfriedens im Zeitalter der atomaren Bedrohung, und
dazu gehörte das gegenseitige Kennenlernen, der Austausch
von Studierenden und Führungskräften in vielen Bereichen.
Ich hatte die Ehre und das Vergnügen der Tischnachbar
des Senators zu sein. Er erzählte unter anderem, dass er
deutsche Vorfahren habe. Sie seien schon im 18. Jahrhundert
aus der Gegend um Berlin nach Amerika ausgewandert.
Ihr Name war Vollbrecht! Bei ihm klang es eher wie
„Fullprecht“. Sie anglisierten ihren Namen zu Fulbright
und wurden sehr patriotische Amerikaner. So gab es in der
Familie später George Washington Fulbrights, Andrew
Jackson Fulbrights, Martin van Buren Fulbrights. Eine
amerikanische Mode, die es noch immer gibt, wofür
William Jefferson Clinton ein schönes Beispiel ist.
Als sich das Essen durch ein Versehen des Restaurants
stark verzögerte, wurde der Senator ungehalten, er wollte
nicht so spät zu Abend essen. Ich eilte zu dem verantwortlichen
Professor der New York University und die
Bedienung brachte bald ein großes steak mit den Zutaten
nur für den hohen Gast. Dem missfiel, dass er alleine essen
sollte. Er schnitt das steak in zwei Teile und schob mir die
Hälfte auf meinen schon bereit stehenden Teller. So
genossen der Senator und sein deutscher Tischnachbar ein
Essen mit vielen Zuschauern! Eine unvergessliche Episode
für den Gast aus Germany.
Dr. Helmut Alfred Sauer wurde 1929 in Breslau geboren. Er ist Dr. phil., M.Sc.Ed., und em. Prof. für Englische Sprache und ihre
Didaktik an der Universität Dortmund. 1951-53 hat er an der Pädagogischen Hochschule Göttingen studiert. Sein Jahr als Fulbrighter
(1953-54) verbrachte er an der University of Kansas (M.Sc.Ed.). Er promovierte 1967 an der Universität Göttingen. Seit 1953 war
Sauer Lehrer an Volks-, Real-, Fachschulen, der Pädagogische Hochschule sowie in Göttingen und der University of Kansas. 1971 war er
Professor an der Pädagogischen Hochschule Ruhr und seit 1980 an der Universität Dortmund. Er ist Autor von mehreren Büchern, u.a.:
Fremdsprachen in der Volksschule; Englisch auf der Primarstufe; Englischunterricht für alle; Der historische deutsche Osten und der Zeitgeist;
Fremdsprachenlernen in Grundschulen; und Mitherausgeber der Zeitschrift Primary English. Sauer ist mit Ilse-Maria (geb. Riedel)
verheiratet und sie haben drei Kinder.

Ein kalifornisches Jahr
von Wolfgang Stedtfeld
IN MEINER FREIBURGER STUDENTENBUDE
öffnete ich im Juli 1953 einen Brief, dessen erste Zeile mich
jubeln ließ: „I am pleased to inform you of your selection ...“
Dass James B. Conant, der damalige U.S. High Commissioner
for Germany, ihn persönlich unterzeichnet hatte,
beeindruckte mich besonders. Ein Studienjahr in Amerika!
Welchen Gefühlsüberschwang das auslöste, ist heute, da
Aufenthalte in aller Welt tagtäglich geworden sind, kaum
zu ermessen. Damals war es meiner Heimatzeitung bedeutungsvoll
genug, mehrmals darüber zu berichten. Welches
Glück mir zudem mit dem Studienort Stanford zugefallen
war, wurde mir erst auf der viertägigen Bahnfahrt von New
York ins Traumland Kalifornien offenbar. Eine mitreisende
Amerikanerin ließ mich anerkennend wissen, ich sei auf
dem Wege zum Harvard of the West.
Claremont, ein Collegestädtchen im Los Angeles County,
war der reizvolle Ort meines sechswöchigen orientation
course. Vor Beginn des Studiums sollten hier 42 Studenten
aus 23 Ländern an die neuen Lebensumstände herangeführt
werden, Einblicke gewinnen in die andere akademische
Welt, in die amerikanische Gesellschaft und Kultur. Allein
das Zusammensein mit so vielen Kommilitonen unterschiedlicher
Nationalität und fachlicher Ausrichtung wäre
Programm genug gewesen, um Wochen mit Gesprächen
auszufüllen. Unter ihnen Deutscher zu sein, führte nie dazu,
als ein an der jüngeren Vergangenheit Mitschuldiger angegriffen
zu werden. Man trug mir sogar auf, bei unserer
Abschiedsfeier mit vielen amerikanischen Gästen im Namen
aller Kursteilnehmer zu sprechen.
Ich lebte eine erfahrungsreiche, zugleich unbeschwerte
Zeit in prächtiger Umgebung. Die zum Teil klassizistischen
Gebäude des uns beherbergenden graduate college, die komfortablen
dormitories, Tennisplätze, Swimmingpools lagen
wie in einem großen Park an mit Palmen bestandenen
Straßen. Veranstaltet wurden Vorlesungen, Übungen, field
trips, Besuche bei amerikanischen Familien, square dance-
Abende. Auf dem Programm standen der Umgang mit dem
Waschautomat und Telefon ebenso wie McCarthyism oder
die Erörterung der Frage, ob die amerikanische Gesellschaft
matriarchalische Züge trage. Den stärksten Eindruck hinterließen
die unmittelbaren Begegnungen mit dem Land
und seinen Bewohnern: die rücksichtsvollen Autofahrer, die
vor Fußgängern anhielten; die Straßenkreuzer der Bauarbeiter
an ihrer Arbeitsstelle; die weißhaarigen Damen
eines Seniorenclubs, die sich mir mit „I’m Mary, I’m Catherine
...“ vorstellten; der Pastor, den wir sonntags predigen
hörten und der uns tags darauf im Hawaiihemd aus seinem
Cabrio zuwinkte; der Professor im overalls bei Reparaturarbeiten
auf dem Schindeldach seines Hauses; die Tausende,
die leger gekleidet, teils essend, trinkend, rauchend der von
Otto Klemperer im Hollywood Bowl dirigierten Neunten
Symphonie lauschten. – Wahrnehmungen von Verhal-
tensweisen, Gegebenheiten, die dem Deutschen damals
ungewohnt waren, und heute größtenteils nicht mehr fremd
sind.
Claremont, dann Stanford, 1891 von Senator Stanford
gegründet und nach seinem früh verstorbenen Sohn Leland
Stanford Junior benannt. „Die Luft der Freiheit weht“
(Ulrich von Hutten) lautet das Motto dieser Universität. Als
trügerisch erwies sich jedoch meine Erwartung, im freien
Amerika sei die akademische Freiheit noch größer als bei
uns. Größer war der Leistungsanspruch, und Leistung
wurde, insbesondere bei den undergraduates, konsequent
kontrolliert, am Ende eines jeden quarter in einem grade
report bewertet. Das setzte einem ungebundenen Studentenleben
Grenzen. Scholastic deficiency konnte zur Relegation
führen. Herausragende Leistungen wurden in vielfältiger
Weise anerkannt, auch unter Studenten. „What’s your average?“
war eine nicht unübliche Frage. Leistung wurde durch
hervorragende Studienbedingungen gefördert: kleine
Klassen, sehr gute Bibliotheken, zugängliche Professoren.
In der Regel standen die Türen ihrer Arbeitszimmer offen,
die titellose Anrede beseitigte Barrieren, Einladungen in
ihre Häuser waren keine Seltenheit.
IM ERSTEN QUARTER belegte ich literaturwissenschaftliche
Kurse mit gewaltigem Lesepensum, schrieb
die erforderlichen Hausarbeiten, unterzog mich den jeweils
mehrstündigen Klausuren der midterms und finals. Dann
widmete ich mich ganz der Arbeit an dem mitgebrachten
Dissertationsthema, das amerikanische Literaturkritik
betraf. Stanford ließ mich durch Professor Yvor Winters,
einem prominenten Literaturkritiker, einen unproblematischen
Einstieg finden. Er vermittelte mir Einsichten, die
mich vor Irrwegen und Zeitverlust bewahrten. Einen Teil
der grundlegenden Literatur schenkte oder lieh er mir. Der
Zufall wollte es, dass Yvor Winters für das dritte Quartal
des Studienjahres das Seminar „American Critics“ anbot. Es
fanden sich nur acht Teilnehmer. Ich präsentierte ein
umfangreiches paper, konnte mich unter allerbesten Voraussetzungen
mit meinem Gegenstand beschäftigen.
Also Stanford = Arbeit? Durchaus, doch nicht allein. Sie
vollzog sich in einer Umgebung, auf einem Campus, dessen
Großzügigkeit und Schönheit mich begeisterten. Sie vollzog
sich unter Menschen, deren Freundlichkeit und Hilfsbereitschaft
beglückten und unter denen ich Freunde fand. Der
Stanford Campus umfasst ein weites, vom benachbarten
Palo Alto deutlich separiertes Areal. Er ist geprägt durch
seine sandsteinbraunen Gebäude und den alles überragenden
Turm der Hoover-Library. Sie liegen eingebettet in
weite, mit Palmen, Pappeln und Zypressen bestandene
Rasenflächen. Sportstätten aller Art gehören dazu, einschließlich
eines 90.000 Zuschauer fassenden Stadions, das
nicht zu groß war für den Besucherandrang beim Football.
In diesem Stadion erlebte ich einen Sinneswandel. Das

Zu Hause folgen die Zeitungen Stedtfeld.
Stedtfeld und Fulbrighter Dierk Clausen in
Claremont, Kalifornien, 1953
18 19
Prof. Dr. Wolfgang Stedtfeld wurde 1927 geboren. Sein 16. und 17. Lebensjahr verbrachte er als Luftwaffenhelfer, Soldat und dann
Kriegsgefangener. 1947 machte er Abitur und begann 1949 mit seinem Studium in Freiburg (Englisch, Latein, und Philosophie). 1953
wurde er Fulbright Stipendiat an der Standford University in Kalifornien. Nach Promotion, und Erstem und Zweitem Staatsexamen war er
als Lehrer am altsprachlichen Gymnasium tätig. 1970 war er Akademischer Oberrat an der Pädagogischen Hochschule Westfalen-Lippe,
Abt. Bielefeld, die 1980 in die Universität Bielefeld integriert wurde. 1979 wurde er Professor für Englische Sprache und Literatur und
ihre Didaktik. Seine Publikationen liegen vornehmlich auf dem Gebiete der Fremdsprachendidaktik, Schwerpunkt in der Literaturwissenschaft:
die amerikanische Short Story. 1992 endet sein Berufsleben. Stedtfeld ist mit einer Zahnärztin verheiratet, sie haben zwei verheiratete
Töchter und zwei Enkelkinder.

Drumherum des Spiels war mir anfangs befremdlich: die
Stanford Band in Uniformen, die an Zirkusmusiker erinnerten,
die pom pom girls, die Gesänge und skandierten
Anfeuerungsrufe erschienen mir „unakademisch“. Doch es
dauerte nicht lange, bis auch mich diese Seite des Stanford
spirit gepackt hatte und ich mich begeistert anschloss.
Football war immer eine Attraktion, zum großen Fest
wurde das gegen den Erzrivalen Berkeley ausgetragene big
game. In Stanford wurde vieles gefeiert.
DAS GROSSZÜGIGE STIPENDIUM, durch gelegentliche
Jobs weiter angehoben, ermöglichte mir in vieler
Hinsicht einen anderen Lebensstil als den zu Hause
üblichen. So konnte ich komfortabler wohnen und meine
Garderobe deutlich aufbessern. Besonders hatten es mir
Nylonhemden und –socken angetan. Erst vor ein paar
Tagen erinnerte mich ein Freund daran, dass ich ihm 1954
von Stanford solche Socken zum Geburtstag schickte mit
dem Kommentar: „...leicht zu waschen und noch nach
Monaten ohne das kleinste Loch“. Zum veränderten
Lebensstil zählte auch mein 37er Studebaker. Er erleichterte
die Ausdehnung meiner Aktivitäten über Stanford
hinaus, begünstigte auch meine dating-Chancen. Er trug
mich in die Sierra Nevada, den Yosemite Park, auf dem
Highway 1 nach Los Angeles, nach Reno und viele Male
nach San Francisco. Gelegentlich versagte er seine Dienste,
ließ mich nach einem Ampelstopp nicht vom Fleck kommen.
Dann fand sich immer ein hilfsbereiter Mensch, der
mich ohne Aufhebens bumper-to-bumper flott machte und
mit einer grüßenden Handbewegung wieder verschwand.
Die Chemie einer lebenslangen
Beziehung
von Gerhard Wellenreuther
ES WAR EIN ERHEBENDES GEFÜHL BESON-
DERER ART, als ich im Frühjahr 1953, wo die Narben
des Zweiten Weltkrieges noch lange nicht verheilt waren,
von der Fulbright-Kommission in Bad Godesberg einen
Brief erhielt und daraus entnehmen durfte, dass mir ein
Stipendium für ein einjähriges Studium in den USA zugesprochen
wurde. Das monatelange angespannte Abwarten,
ob die mit dem Bewerbungsverfahren verbundenen Vorstellungsgespräche
in München und Nürnberg letztendlich
zum Erfolg führen würden oder aber nicht, kam so zu einem
erfreulichen Ende. Es begann für mich damit nicht nur einer
der ereignisreichsten Abschnitte meines Lebens, sondern
auch einer, der mein weiteres Leben in sehr starkem Maße
beeinflusste und prägte.
Die Abreise nach den USA im Juli des gleichen Jahres
begann mit einer Einführungsveranstaltung in Bad Honnef
Mit den beeindruckenden commencement exercises endete
das akademische Jahr im Juni und damit auch mein
Stipendium. Ich blieb noch bis Mitte September in Kalifornien,
wohnte bei Verwandten in Stockton, arbeitete auf
einer Farm und zur Zeit der Pfirsichernte in einer cannery,
was nicht möglich gewesen wäre ohne den vorherigen
Beitritt zur „International Brotherhood of Teamsters,
Chauffeurs, Warehousemen and Helpers“. So lernte ich
nach dem privilegierten Leben an einer elitären Universität
auch eine andere Seite Amerikas kennen einschließlich
der skid rows mancher Städte mit ihren heruntergekommenen
bettelnden Gestalten.
RÜCKFAHRT NACH NEW YORK WIEDER
AUF RÄDERN, dieses Mal denen von Greyhound-Bussen
und mit vielen Zwischenstopps. Wie vor mehr als einem
Jahr die Bahnfahrt nach Kalifornien führte auch diese
Reise die großartige Vielfalt des Landes vor Augen. Die
zehntägige Seefahrt nach Bremerhaven auf der ‚Gripsholm’,
dem ersten vom Norddeutschen Lloyd nach dem
Krieg in Dienst gestellten Passagierschiff, wurde eine fröhliche
Fulbright-Party, zu der sich Heimkehrer und viele
amerikanische Studentinnen und Studenten auf dem Wege
nach Deutschland trafen.
Das kalifornische Jahr war eine Zeit, für die ich sehr
dankbar bin. Es hat meine persönliche und berufliche
Entwicklung deutlich beeinflusst. Meine für Amerika empfundene
Zuneigung blieb trotz gelegentlicher Irritationen
bis heute erhalten.
zusammen mit ca. 50 anderen Stipendiaten. Von dort ging
es mit einer viermotorigen Propellermaschine der Scandinavian
Airlines ab Flughafen Düsseldorf über Kopenhagen,
Prestwick (Schottland), und Gander (Neufundland) nach
New York. Die Flugreise war meine erste und dauerte – wie
damals üblich – nahezu 24 Stunden.
Nach einigen Tagen im turbulenten New York, wo völlig
Neuartiges und Superlative aller Art von allen Seiten auf mich
einströmten, fuhr ich mit dem Zug nach Durham, North
Carolina, um an der Duke University zusammen mit 37
Fulbright-Stipendiaten aus 16 Ländern an einem mehrwöchigen
Orientierungsprogramm teilzunehmen – ein interessantes
Erlebnis. Im Anschluss daran fuhr ich dann, ebenfalls wieder
mit dem Zug, nach Rochester, New York, um an der Graduate
School der dortigen Universität mein Chemie-Studium für
die Dauer von zwei Semestern fortzusetzen.

DER STUDIENAUFENTHALT IN ROCHESTER
war für mich sehr gewinnbringend und hat sich auch auf
meine nachfolgenden Studienjahre sehr positiv ausgewirkt,
da der Lehrstoff, insbesondere auf dem Gebiet der Theoretischen
Chemie, in den USA seinerzeit fortschrittlicher
war als in Deutschland. Auch außerhalb meines Fachstudiums
war mein Aufenthalt durch eine Fülle neuer Begegnungen
und Freundschaften sowie Reisen in die nähere und
weitere Umgebung außerordentlich erlebnis- und lehrreich.
Nach Beendigung des akademischen Jahres in Rochester
und einer anschließenden sechswöchigen Autoreise mit
einem amerikanischen Freund zu den national parks im
Westen bis nach Kalifornien bin ich im Sommer 1954 mit
der MS Berlin wieder nach Hause zurückgekehrt. Ich ging
nicht ungern wieder nach Hause, denn meine Bindungen
zu meiner Familie, zu alten Freunden und zur eigenen Kultur
waren stark geblieben. Dennoch hat mir nach meiner
Rückkehr vieles in der alten Heimat nicht mehr gefallen
und die Sehnsucht nach den USA ist immer wieder aufgeflackert.
Durch meinen Amerikaaufenthalt und Begegnungen
mit so vielen Menschen aus verschiedenen Kulturkreisen
hatte ich gelernt, mein eigenes Land auch von
anderen Perspektiven aus zu sehen, und mein Auge war für
das Erkennen von Kritikwürdigem sehr geschärft worden.
Als vorteilhaft empfand ich auch die bei meinem
Amerikaaufenthalt gewonnene Erkenntnis, dass man in den
USA – wohl geprägt durch das angelsächsische Erbe – in
manchem anders denkt als bei uns, und dass die dort häufig
praktizierten andersartigen Denkansätze und dadurch
Eine internationale Gruppe nahm
an den Einführungstagen bei Duke
University teil. Hier Wellenreuther
(rechts) mit Fulbright Stipendiaten
aus Ägypten und Indien.
20 21
bedingte Verhaltensweisen sich dadurch auch bei sich selbst
als nützlich erweisen können.
ALS ICH ENDE DER 60ER JAHRE in dem
Unternehmen, in welchem ich nach meiner Hochschulzeit
berufstätig wurde, die Gelegenheit erhielt, erneut in die
USA zu gehen, um dort am Bau einer neuen großen Industrieanlage
mitzuwirken, ergriff ich diese Herausforderung
sehr gerne und zog mit Sack und Pack, Frau und Kindern
(meine beiden Töchter waren damals 5 und 7 Jahre alt)
nach South Carolina. Ich schuf dort für mich und meine
Familie für die Dauer von 4 Jahren eine wunderschöne neue
Heimat mit neuen und guten Freunden, für meine Firma
eine gut funktionierende technische Anlage und wirkte
maßgeblich daran mit, der Stadt, in der sich dies abspielte,
eine zusätzliche Prosperität mit über 1000 neuen Arbeitsplätzen
zu bringen. Die Erfahrungen mit Land und Leuten
und natürlich auch die Sprachkenntnisse, die ich mir
während meines Fulbright-Jahres erworben hatte, kamen
mir dabei sehr zustatten. Ich möchte nicht unerwähnt
lassen, dass ich bei meinem beruflichen Wirken in South
Carolina mein Augenmerk oft und gerne auch darauf ausrichtete,
mich für all das dankbar zu erweisen, was mir als
Fulbright-Stipendiat ca. 2 Jahrzehnte zuvor ermöglicht
wurde.
Ich wünsche, dass noch viele junge Menschen aus
Deutschland die Gelegenheit erhalten werden, mit einem
Fulbright-Stipendium einen Studienaufenthalt in den USA
zu verbringen, um damit die großartige Bereicherung zu
erfahren, die mir vor 50 Jahren selbst zuteil wurde.
Dr. Gerhard Wellenreuther wurde 1929 in Mannheim geboren. Verzögert durch den Krieg legte Wellenreuther 1949 die Abiturprüfung
ab. Im Anschluss daran begann er sein Chemiestudium an der Universität Würzburg. 1953 erhielt er ein Fulbright-Stipendium für ein
einjähriges Studium an der University of Rochester, NY. Nach seiner Rückkehr setzte er sein Chemiestudium an der Universität Heidelberg
fort und promovierte dort im Mai 1958 zum Doktor der Naturwissenschaften. Er blieb noch für weitere zwei Jahre an der Universität
als wissenschaftlicher Assistent und trat im Mai 1960 in die BASF-Aktiengesellschaft ein. Er blieb dort nahezu 34 Jahre
beschäftigt. Während seiner Dienstzeit bei BASF verbrachte er als Delegierter bei einer amerikanischen Tochtergesellschaft vier Jahre in
den USA. Seit Ende 1993 lebt er im Ruhestand. Wellenreuther ist verheiratet und hat zwei Töchter.

Überall in den USA verteilt: 104 StudentInnen, 28 ProfessorInnen und ForscherInnen,
und 8 LehrerInnen zählten zum ersten Fulbright-Jahrgang, 1953-54.
StipendiatInnen Dierk Clausen und
Charlotte Heiss, beide Studenten an
der University of Washington.
Nix wie weg! Die Fulbrighters flogen im Herbst
1953 von Düsseldorf, über Kopenhagen, Glasgow,
Shannon, Neufundland, und Boston, nach New
York. Der Flug dauerte circa 24 Stunden.
Auf dem Heimweg:
die heimkehrenden deutschen
StipendiatInnen reisen auf dem
Schiff ,MS Gripsholm‘ mit dem
amerikanischen Jahrgang 1954-55
nach Deutschland.

1953-54
Deutsche Fulbright Stipendiaten
22 23
STUDENTINNEN
Helga Albrecht • Hans-Dieter Andreas • Liselott Anthes • Ingeborg Barnowsky • Wolfgang Barth • Gisela Bartunek • Margarete Baum • Dietrich Bensel • Roland
Bernt • Hellmut von Bibra • Klaus Blech • Hans-Georg Blobel • Ferdinand Boehne • Juergen Born • Edwin Bornemann • Hubertus Braeuer • Hans-Joachim
Bruechner • Horst Buehrle • Ralph Wilhelm Buelow • Sigismund Buerstedde • Dierk Engers Clausen • Ulrich Creutzburg • Dietrich Danckwortt • Klaus-Alfons
Deck • Karlheinz Dederke • Hans Dembowski • Christian Determann • Ulrich Diesing • Herbert Dorn • Erika Dose • Luzia Drescher • Anno Elfgen • Wilhelm
Endres • Rolf Ernst • Wolf-Dieter Euba • Heinz Ferlemann • Wolfgang Finke • Eva Fokken • Werner Freiesleben • Manfred Freise • Weddigen Fricke • Friedrich
Fuerstenberg • Gunda Gabcke • Elfriede Garvens • Rolf Geisler • Armin George • Alfred Gierer • Hans Giesecke • Dr. Helmut Gins • Doris Gleitsmann • Herbert
Goehmann • Helmut Golde • Ursula Groeppel • Karl-Heinz Grossmann • Herwig Grote • Margret Haase • Horst Habisreitinger • Felix Hahn • Charlotte Heiss •
Peter Heyde • Rosemarie Hill • Johann Hofmeier • Dieta Hoehne • Wolfgang Holstein • Reimut Jochimsen • Klaus Jordan • Klaus Joetten • Peter Kalinke • Hans
Kandlbinder • Ferdinande Ketteler • Otto Kimminich • Dr. Dieter Klages • Rudolf Klein • Armin Kling • Volkert Koch • Dankwart Koehler • Otto-Theodor
Koerner • Jutta Koester • Hedwig Kraemer • Axel Kruppa • Horst Kruse • Manfred Kulessa • Inge Kusel • Heinz von Lampe • Werner Landschuetz • Rudolf Lauer •
Gerhardt Lautenschlaeger • Ursula Lebeda • Manfred Leckszas • Bernhard Lehmann • Gesche Lehmann • Rolf Lehmann • Gerd Leisse • Klaus Lemberg • Roswitha
Leuthold • Klaus Liepelt • Eva Linn • Rudolf Luedemann • Dierk Luers • Hans-Joachim Macht • Ilse Maechtle • Ursula Marks • Sigrid Matthaei • Klaus Meavers •
Martin Georg Meiser • Hippolyt Meles • Joachim Mertin • Rolf Metzen • Erika Meyer • Guenther Morgenstern • Marie-Luise Mueller • Kurt Mueller-Vollmer •
Scharnhorst Mueller • Senta Munding • Detlef Neke • Eva Neumann • Wolfgang Opitz • Christine Penitzka • Klaus Penzel • Eva Petermann • Edith Ploessel •
Georg Poetzsch-Heffter • Dr. Marianne Preuss • Gerd-Welfhard Prowe • Martin Quilisch • Gerhard Rauscher • Elmar Rehborn • Hermann Rentrop • Roswitha
Rettig • Bruno Richter • Klaus Riegel • Hans-Joachim Riemer • Ernst von Rintelen • Bernd Rissmann • Karin Rohde • Albrecht Roeseler • Guenther Rossmann •
Hans-Jakob Rothenbacher • Heinz Ruckdaeschel • Andrej Sauer • Helmut Sauer • Dietmar Schenitzki • Bodo Scheurig • Dieter Schildknecht • Werner Schmid •
Kurt Seidel • Waltraut Seitter • Reinhold Sell • Wolfgang Stedtfeld • Hans Steffen • Otto Suhling • Wolfgang Teuscher • Thomas Trautner • Helmut Tuerk •
Fritz Utz • Gerhard Vehlhaber • Rochus Vogt • Georg Max Voellmer • Helmut Waldenberger • Wolfgang Walther • Elvira Weiss • Agnes Weitz • Gerhard
Wellenreuther • Heinrich Weyer • Joachim Wiese • Johannes Wilbert • Joachim Wild • Edgar Windemuth • Yvonne Winter • Peter Wocke • Christa-Maria
Woessner • Irmgard Zanner • Eva Zimmer
PROFESSORINNEN & FORSCHERINNEN
Dr. Albert Breitbach • Dr. Richard Buenemann • Dr. Joachim Gasch • Prof. Dr. Friedrich Glum • Waldemar Haberey • Dr. Wolfgang Laskowski •
Prof. Dr. Walter Leydolph • Dr. Paul Mueller • Karl-Ludwig von Pappritz • Dr. Herbert Pilch • Dr. Gisela Ruckle • Prof. Dr. Johannes Stuebel • Dr. Hilda
Wander • Dr. Friedrich Weltz • Dr. Guenter Wyszecki • Prof. Dr. Ernst Sehrt • Prof. Dr. Eugen Ulmer • Dr. Eva-Maria Boecke • Barbara Bondy • Dr. Dieter
Gaier • Dr. Reinhard Kaplan • Prof. Dr. Fritz Linder • Dr. Juergen Moser • Prof. Dr. Herbert O’Daniel • Dr. Teut Riese • Dr. Anneliese Thimme • Prof. Dr. Kurt
Ueberreiter • Prof. Dr. Benno von Wiese
LEHRERINNEN
Dr. Dr. Hans-Guenther Assel • Dr. Walter Baum • Kurt Bildau • Dr. Elfriede Kaun • Elisabeth Kleine • Dr. Gerhard Schellenberg • Dr. Lotte Uhl • Richard Volk
Die Deutschen StipendiatInnen wurden überall in den USA verteilt und nahmen an regionalen Einführungstagungen mit
Fulbrighters aus aller Welt teil. Hier, Fulbrighters bei der Einführungstagung an der Duke University in Durham, North Carolina.

Edward N. (Ted) Adourian was born in Philadelphia, PA in 1930. He received a B.A. at Dickinson College, 1953;
was a Fulbright Scholar at the Free University Berlin, 1953-54; and then received a M.A. from Fletcher School of
Law & Diplomacy, 1955. Later, he served in the U.S. Army, 1955-1958; and then received an L.L.B. from the
University of Pennsylvania, 1961. Adourian worked 40 years as a trial lawyer in southern New Jersey. He is past
President of the Camden County Bar Association, Fellow in the American College of Trial Lawyers, and Adjunct
Professor of Trial Advocacy, Rutgers/Camden Law School. He is also currently “of counsel” to a law firm in Cherry
Hill, NJ and a pro bono lawyer with the Jesuit Urban Social Team in Camden, NJ. He has been married since 1957
to Ritva Luikko of Finland. Together they have two children.
Edward Adourian in 1953
Berlin, between Art and Reality
by Edward N. Adourian, Jr.
I ARRIVED IN BERLIN at the beginning of October
1953, several months after Soviet tanks had crushed the
June 17th revolt of the Stalinallee construction workers
against increased work norms. At the time, there was no
Wall, no Checkpoint Charlie, and the U-Bahn and the
S-Bahn ran unhindered through all sectors of the city.
After registering at the Free University, I found a small
room for 40 DM a month in the third floor flat of two elderly
sisters in an old, onetime upper-middle-class house in
Grunewald: Schleinitzstrasse 6a. Before the war, the
younger sister worked for the S. Fischer Verlag. The elder
sister had emigrated to pre-revolutionary Russia as the
young bride of a Russian oil executive. There, she experienced
the last years of Imperial Russia, WWI, the Revolution,
and the subsequent advent and consolidation of Soviet
communism. She was living as a widow in Kiev when the
German army occupied the city and accompanied it when it
retreated from Russia. She was in Berlin when the Russian
army took the city. I learned more from these two wonderful
old ladies than from all my professors at university.
Moreover, neither sister spoke much English, which helped
my efforts to learn German.
From a Haltestelle along Bismarckallee I took Autobus
A10 to the Uni in Dahlem, where I attended lectures at the
Meinecke Institute. For a change of pace, however, I occasionally
went downtown to catch a lecture by Otto Suhr at
the Hochschule für Politik. Unlike at my small Pennsylvania
college, attendance at the Free University was never taken.
Consequently, I very often took the A10 in the opposite
direction into Stadtmitte, and from there, to all parts of the
city. Almost every day and night I was somewhere interesting—the
opera, a theater, a Kino 1 , or just along Ku’damm.
BEFORE BERLIN, I had never attended an opera.
Berlin had three great houses, one in the West and two in
the East. Their combined repertoire went from Monteverdi
through Verdi and Wagner to Alben Berg and Werner Egk,
and, at least in the West, everything was sung in German,
including Verdi, Puccini, Gounod, Bizet, and Mozart’s Italian
(DaPonte) operas. In my head I can still hear Dietrich
Fischer-Dieskau’s Don Juan sing: “Reich mir die Hand, mein
Leben, komm auf mein Schloß zu mir;” 2 or Sieglinde Wagner’s
Carmen sing: “Nimm dich in acht!” 3 Karl Böhm often conducted
as did Wolfgang Sawallisch. (Sawallisch is now in
his last year as conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra
where my wife and I have a concert series.) Among the
many other memorable singers were Elisabeth Grümmer,
Inge Borkh, Ernst Krukowski, Helene Werth, Ludwig
Suthau, and Sebastian Hauser. At the time, the West’s
Städtische Oper was located near Bahnhof Zoo, and before
the performances I stopped at Aschinger for a quick Malzbier
und Erbseneintopf . 4 On the way home with the A10 there
was sometimes another stop at Der Dicke Heinrich for a
bratwurst. There was also a Furtwängler Beethoven concert
(one of his last) at the Titania Palast in Steglitz and a
Beethoven’s 9th at the Sportpalast, where also the 6-day
bike races were held.
It took some time before my German was good enough for
the theater, but better late than never. And what great theater!
There was the Schiller Theater, the Schlosspark Theater, the
Renaissance Theater, and the Theater am Kurfürstendamm.
Nor can I forget the Resi Bar, with its Lichtspiel 5 and
Rohrpost, 6 or the Badewanne near Rathaus Schöneberg. I saw
Werner Kraus in Der Hauptmann von Köpenick and in Vor
Sonnenuntergang, Walter Franck in Richard III, and Werner
Finck in Pygmalion. There was Büchner’s Woyzeck on the stage
(Drehbühne) at the Theater am Kurfürstendammm and many
more productions, which I can no longer remember.
An opera at the Staatsoper or the Komische Oper in
East Berlin was usually preceded by a stop at the Café
Budapest near Stalinallee. Once I stood all day in line in the
cold in East Berlin for a ticket to see an aging Galina
Ulanova dance Die Fontäne von Bachtschissarai. At the time, I
didn’t know who Ulanova was, but my landladies said I
shouldn’t miss it. I didn’t regret the six plus hours in the
cold.
IN THE SPRING AND SUMMER there was a
Berliner Weisse mit Himbeersaft 7 on the Ku’damm, or a
Schultheiss 8 at a Biergarten in a suburb. Then there was
canoeing on the Wannsee with a Krankenschwester 9 from
Charlottenburg and sailing on the same lake with a Studentin
from Zehlendorf-West. I also have a memory of the
Berliners going wild in early spring 1954 when Germany
beat Hungary in the World Cup.
On the radio there was RIAS. 10 I my head I can still
hear; “Achtung, Achtung! Hier spricht RIAS Berlin, eine freie
Stimme der freien Welt. Wir bringen Ihnen Nachrichten.” 11
From the beginning, I was in the Kino several times a
week. Everything was dubbed into German, and it was a
great way to learn the language. I especially liked the
French films, Lohn der Angst and Kinder des Olymp, among

Uni or operas, or out for a
snack, the A10 takes Adourian
everywhere he wants to go.
Slogans, banners, and photos larger than life
decorates May Day 1954.
others. Last year at Marienbad was a special favorite. There
was Fernandel as Don Camillo, and a series of gangster films
with Eddie Constantine. There was even Marlon Brando
speaking perfektes Deutsch in Faust im Nacken.
EAST BERLIN MADE ORWELL a reality. On occasion
I rode the S-Bahn to Alexanderplatz to, among other
things, buy books or phonograph records at Das Gute Buch
or at Soviet International Books. At the time I didn’t know
that Der Alex was the venue of the famous Franz Biberkopf . 12
With the student card, and a very favorable rate of exchange
for the dollar what Berlin had to offer, and it was much and
varied, could be enjoyed very inexpensively. I’ll never forget
May Day in East Berlin: banners with slogans everywhere,
huge pictures of the Communist hagiography—Marx,
Engels, Lenin, Pieck, Ulbricht, Liebknecht, and Luxemburg—and
marching Vopos 13 and FDJ. 14 The faces and slogans
were different, but the whole scene brought to mind
newsreels of the Nürnberg rallies.
Space is too short to mention more than in passing a
wonderful 10 days with a group of Berliners in Vorarlberg,
Austria, during the Christmas break, with a side trip to
occupied Vienna on the way back. I was lucky enough to get
a ticket to see Helge Rosvaenge sing Ein Maskenball at the
Theater an der Wien. During the semester break there was a
month and a half in Italy, north of Rome, by motorcycle.
For me, the lasting legacy of my Fubright year in
Berlin, for which I am eternally grateful, is my enduring
love of Central European language, literature, and culture.
Music lovers from all over the world
cool their heals in the Badewanne.
24 25
I am now semi-retired, but during my active 40 plus years
as a trial lawyer, I would often travel by car to the various
venues of my practice in the southern part of New Jersey,
and instead of listening to tapes of the latest New Jersey or
Federal cases and statutes, I would pop in the tape deck
recordings in German of Central European classics—Mann,
Musil, Joseph Roth, Böll, Kleist, Hesse, Fontane, and many
others, read by such great artists as Will Quadflieg or Gert
Westphal. I still have a tape of Quadflieg and Gustav
Gründgens doing Faust. On one occasion, however, my
knowledge of German had a more practical application. In a
lawsuit against a large German chemical company, I was
able to negotiate a considerable monetary settlement by
showing that a warning label on a potentially explosive
product had been mistranslated from German into English.
But, first and foremost I can thank the German language
for my wife of 46 years. In 1956 I was stationed in
Frankfurt, West Germany, with the U.S. Army. In my free
time I took some classes at the university where I met a
young woman from Finland. I spoke no Finnish, and she
spoke almost no English. Our common language was German,
which we spoke during courtship and the first years of
marriage, until English finally won out.
My memories of Berlin in the early 1950s have provided
me with a “movable feast.” I was in Berlin for a short time
in 1956 on a matter with the army, but I have not been
back since. I don’t know if I could take today’s glitz and
glass in Berlin. I think I’ll stay with my memories.
1) Movie theater 2) “Give me your hand, my life, come with me to my castle” 3) “Take care!” 4) Malt beer and pea soup 5) Fountain and light show 6) Pneumatic tubes
allowing messages to be sent between tables 7) A Berlin specialty, Berlin Weiss beer with a shot of raspberry juice (or liqueur), 8) A brand of Berlin beer 8) nurse
10) Radio in the American Sector, broadcast from 1946-1993 11) Attention! Attention! This is RIAS speaking, a free voice of the free world. We bring you the news
12) Main character in the novel, Alexanderplatz, by Alfred Döblin 13) Short for Volkspolizei, the East German police 14) Short for Freie Deutsche Jugend (Free German
Youth), the socialist youth organization of the GDR.

A Year Spent Listening
by Delbert Barley
MY INTEREST IN EUROPE arose from an excellent
teacher of French in high school, followed by more French
and two years of German, plus a major in European history
in college. Immediately following the war I made a trip to
Gdingen, the port for Danzig, with a shipload of horses for
Poland. During the two-week stay a friend and I took a brief
look at Warsaw. On the return voyage we stopped in Copenhagen
for a week during which a chance acquaintance took
us up to the Elsinor castle of Hamlet fame. Back in the
States I signed up for a two year term with the AFSC
(Quakers) to establish a station for the distribution of relief
goods in Freiburg im Breisgau (1946-48). Our first European
contact with the project was in Paris in preparation for
the work (July-Sept. 1946). In Freiburg I married a student
at the Musikhochschule. By that time, I was determined to
learn more about Europe.
In the States again, I taught history and music for one
year in high school. I then decided to pursue graduate studies
and attempt to qualify for college teaching. The University
of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia
accepted me; three years followed
doing sociology, anthropology, criminology,
and demography. During the
summer at the end of this period I
read in the New York Times of the
beginning of the Fulbright program
for exchange with Germany. I applied
immediately and was accepted.
Our plan was in move to my wife’s brother-in-law in
the Black Forest where I would do field research on the
integration of refugees and expellees from the East. In a
demography seminar with Dorothy Thomas at Penn I had
already written a paper on that subject and had collected
considerable literature. Arrangements were made and tickets
for passage on the Arosa Kulm, a ship primarily for students
going to Europe, were secured. We were four with a
son and a daughter. We departed in June, 1953, landed
and then settled in St. Märgen, a small resort village 25
km from Freiburg at an elevation of 900 m. There, the
brother-in-law was Forstdirektor of a large area, and the spacious
Forsthaus provided rooms and access to boarding
facilities.
In September there was a meeting of the Fulbright
group in Bad Honnef. I remember little of the program
apart from a visit to Bonn, where some speeches, introducing
the students into Germany, were heard. One of them
was given by Staatssekretär Scheidemann, whom we came to
know personally many years later during several visits to a
community of artists in the Provence. I also remember sitting
together in Bonn with three other students during a
break. All three were new to Europe, listening intently to
my obviously “superior” knowledge of the country and its
customs. We ordered some wine and I could demonstrate
For many of the expellees I
was regarded as a confidant
to whom they could say
things that the local population
did not want to hear.
my acquaintance with the choice of Rhine wine. To tell the
truth that knowledge was anything but well founded!
In St. Märgen my first task was to plan the content of
interviews, first with expellees and refugees, and then with a
selection of the indigenous population. In the Gemeindeamt I
was given access to a list of all inhabitants of the Gemarkung 1
St. Märgen. According to this list there were 141 individuals
identified as expellees. These included family members, so
that the number of family units—some of which were single
persons—came to 50, all of which I was able to visit and
interview during the winter. I took notes during the sessions,
leaving details and comments for typewriting in the evening.
Since considerable numbers of expellees had been distributed
in isolated farms—cramped quarters were the rule—the work
involved long walks or, in the winter, skiing.
For many of the expellees I was regarded as a confidant
to whom they could say things that the local population did
not want to hear. There was general tension, especially for
the elderly, who had lost a more or less life-long status in
their previous homelands. With some
there was outspoken bitterness. It was
a fact that the local population had
problems of their own, including providing
housing for strangers, and did
not want to be burdened with stories
of extreme hardship; of being forcibly
expelled and then fleeing in the freezing
weather of the winter of 1945
from East Prussia, for instance, when some had to cross the
Kurische Nehrung on ice in sub-zero temperature. Other
refugees were from West Prussia, Silesia, Bessarabia, Transylvania,
Croatia, and the Sudetenland. Words and often tears
spilled out from overflowing emotion. For many of them,
Baden was the end of a series of temporary stops, starting
with Hamburg and northern zones of occupation.
I SPENT A SOLID EIGHT HOURS with one elderly
couple listening and questioning. They did not want to
let me go. It was perhaps the first time in ages that they
could “talk.” We were in an isolated farmhouse at some distance
from St. Märgen and for me only accessible with skis.
One elderly woman from Danzig, on the other hand, was a
good friend of my wife’s sister. She had been a librarian in
East Prussia and was an excellent conversationalist with
whom we also became friends. Most, if not all, of the
expellees were Protestant, now in a conservative Catholic
area, adding to their discomforts.
The interviews with local persons, several of whom were
also peasants at considerable distance from the village, were
less strenuous, often amusing, sometimes condescending,
sometimes understanding.
There was a group of expellees from Croatia, younger
and Catholic, that had been able to integrate and establish
good relationships with the local population. They were

Delbert Barley, 1989
Delbert Barley was born in Froid, Montana, in 1918 and then moved to Minnesota. He
received his B.A. from McPherson College in Kansas, 1935-39, and did post-graduate work at
Iowa State Teachers College, 1939-40. During WWII, Barley served as a smoke jumper in
Montana, and between 1946-48 he worked for Quakerhilfe in Danzig, Paris, and Freiburg.
Barley finished his graduate studies at the University of Pennsylvania, 1949-52, and lectured
at St. Joseph’s College and Muhlenburg College before his Fulbright year near Freiburg in
1953-54. In 1955 Barley became an Assistant Professor of Sociology at Ithaca College, NY,
where he was then awarded his Ph.D. He was a professor for sociology and political education at
the Evang. Seminar/Fachhochschule für Sozialarbeit, Freiburg, 1958-83; and an Associate
Professor of Sociology at State University of New York at Geneseo, 1966-67. Since his retirement
in 1983 Barley has lived in Vaucluse (Provence) and Waldbronn, Germany.
somehow not regarded as “real” expellees, and, as a matter of
fact, they had left more or less under cover of retreating German
troops, not literally driven from their homes. I met up
with a saying widely known in southern Germany: “Bis man
Wurst gesagt hat, hat der Preus’ sie schon gegessen.” 2 Little love
was lost for strangers from the North and East; they were all
Prussians.
IN BETWEEN INTERVIEWS, there were occasional
trips by bus to Freiburg, skiing of an unprofessional sort, a
bit of practice on the cello I had brought with me and making
music together with my wife and the wife of a teacher in
a nearby village. The couple lived in a tiny settlement with a
less tiny sawmill in a valley within walking distance from
St. Märgen. The teacher, who presided over the one-room
school, was a singer, a natural scientist, and a most interesting
character. We often enjoyed our visits with them, and
the hike to and from the village.
Christmas was celebrated in the strict family traditional
form. A large Tannenbaum was erected in one of the rooms,
decorated, and the Christmas gifts were arranged secretly by
our host. Each of the children of the host and Barley families
had a pile of packages. Christmas songs were sung, our host
accompanied on the guitar. It was solemn and impressive.
Sometime in late winter my wife and I went to Loccum
(Lower Saxony) to an Evangelische Akademie, where the integration
of expellees and refugees was being discussed. Dr.
Elisabeth Pfeil, a well-known sociologist, whose name was
familiar to me through her publications, was one of the
speakers. We heard her talk and were able to meet her. (Several
years later we invited her to speak at a Jubiläum-Year
celebration at the Seminar in Freiburg; she accepted, and
also accepted a personal invitation from us.) At the same
time, we came in contact with someone from Espelkamp
(Westfalia), a post-war settlement made up exclusively of
expellees and refugees. In Espelkamp was also an Aufbaugymnasium
for youth that had been unable to complete their
Abitur due to flight, primarily from the GDR. Since we were
pondering what we would do after the Fulbright year was
finished, the idea of a teaching position in the Gymnasium or
in the area presented itself.
After returning to St. Märgen from Loccum we pursued
the idea again of a position in Espelkamp. As a result we
moved to that settlement in May (1954). Our living quarters
consisted of a single room in
the dormitory complex; we
ate in the common dining
hall. We came into contact
with the director of the Gymnasium,
and came to know a
number of students, some of
whom had had dramatic
experiences with the GDR
authorities, including imprisonment
in Bautzen. 3
Although my wife was a
qualified teacher and might
very well have gotten a position,
it was important that I
return to Penn, complete
my dissertation and get my
Ph.D. before making any
26 27
Barley and his wife ski near their home
in St. Märgen.
final decisions that could block the way. It was a time of
indecision. Memorable about Espelkamp is the night during
which a man, probably drunk, approached our open window
at ground level and put his hands on the window sill in
preparation for entering. My wife heard something and
awakened me. The man could not see me, but I could clearly
see the contours of his head. I drew back in the dark, lurched
forward with all my strength and punched him in the face.
He fell grunting to the ground, picked himself up slowly,
and waddled away. When we told students about it the next
morning they wanted to know why I hadn’t gone out and
pursue him!
I returned to the U.S. on the United States in July 1954
in order to secure a position and a place to dwell. My wife
and the two children followed in December. All went well
and I received the Ph.D. with my dissertation: “The Integration
of Refugees and Expellees in a Rural Black Forest Community.”
Apart from libraries, it is to be seen in the
Stadtarchiv in Freiburg. The Fulbright year was an important
key to my professional life.
1) Roughly equivalent to a township 2) By the time you’ve said sausage, the
Prussian has already eaten it 3) A former East German prison, where many
political prisoners were kept.

My Recollections
of the First Fulbright Year
by Daniel R. Borg
MOST OF THE FIRST FULBRIGHTERS had vivid
memories of the Second World War, and some had fought
in it. Even though eight years had passed since 1945, we
looked around us with a wary eye, wondering how the usually
kind and considerate German people we met could
possibly have hailed from the barbarous Third Reich.
This perplexing question and others like it, and the
experience of my Fulbright year in West Germany helped
me to decide on the academic career that I subsequently
followed—that of a modern European historian specializing
in German history.
As I recall, the first Fulbrighters crossed the Atlantic
together on an ocean liner and arrived in September in Bad
Honnef. I was not among them. After graduating from
Daniel R. Borg was born in Tracy,
Minnesota, in 1931. He received a B.A.
from Gustavus Adolphus College before
spending his Fulbright year in Tübingen.
Upon returning to the United
States, Borg was drafted into the army,
which sent him to Stuttgart, where he
spent another, quite different, year in
West Germany. After an early discharge,
Borg received a Danforth fellowship,
which enabled him to take a Ph.D.
in history from Yale University in
1963. From 1961 until he retired in
2000 he taught modern European history
at Clark University in Worcester,
MA. Borg and his wife Marjorie have
four children.
Gustavus Adolphus College in May 1953, I led a study
group of Gustavians to Sweden during most of June. The
group then dispersed and fanned out in twos and threes on
a grand summer tour of Western Europe. A classmate and I
bought a used BMW motorcycle in downtown Hamburg
in order to tour Western Europe as far south as Naples. As
we traveled through West Germany, the beauty of the
landscape impressed us, as well as the care that Germans
seemed to lavish on it.
The purchase of a motorcycle was something of a dare.
I had to find someone in West Germany to certify that I
would not sell the motorcycle outside the Bundesrepublik. It
dawned on me that the Fulbright office in Bonn might
provide this certification. And so it did, to my immense
relief. When I arrived, the word spread that a Fulbright
student was in the front office. Staff appeared to welcome
me and shake my hand. I have since wondered if I was the
first Fulbright student they had met—the first student in
the first class. Their attention, though gratifying, embarrassed
me, since I had appeared in the dingy leather jacket
that I wore while motorcycling.
I joined the Fulbright group at its orientation in Bad
Honnef in September. There, we were drilled in conversational
German. But it was hardly a life of hard work in this
pleasant resort village along the Rhine. Most of us had
spent the last years in exhausting study. Now we were liberated
to embark on a grand adventure without the onerous
obligation of paying for it. A festive atmosphere prevailed
as we grew familiar with each other, hiked to scenic places,
toured the river on its ferries, and frequented a variety of
beer and wine establishments. The Fulbright office provided
a varied program of talks and discussions and closely
attended to our needs.
Some Fulbrighters had trouble renting satisfactory
accommodations at their assigned universities. In Tübingen
I had the good fortune of being admitted to the Leibniz
Kolleg as one of a small number of live-in foreign students.
The Kolleg enrolled German graduates from secondary
schools who had not yet settled on a course of study in
the university. At the Kolleg they lived together and
undertook common introductory courses in the various
disciplines. Foreign students living among them had a
ready-made opportunity to improve their German conversational
skills and to meet German students and sometimes
their families, socially and informally. I cherished this
opportunity.

German lessons in the garden in Bad Honnef. The lessons were part of the routine during orientation.
Understanding lectures at the university, which I
attended faithfully, was another matter. I include myself
among the large number of Fulbrighters, who had difficulty
comprehending lectures during the first semester. But
persistence paid off. In the second semester I could usually
follow the lectures of my professors in German history and
political science. My favorites were Professor Hans Rothfels,
who lectured on Bismarck with authority, and
Theodor Eschenburg, who could entertain his attentive
audience with digressions on the follies of politicians in
Central and Eastern Europe. I even ventured to take a seminar
on the First World War and to write an extensive
paper in German.
THE CONTRAST between a highly cultured Germany
and its National Socialist past was still in the back of my
mind. I had been conscious of this contrast ever since my
father had served as a Protestant chaplain to German war
1) Now Fort Drum
28 29
prisoners at Pine Camp 1 in northern New York State in
1944-45. As it developed, my research interest centered
around the interaction of religion and politics. Eventually,
in 1984, I published a book, The Old Prussian Church and
the Weimar Republic, that explored this theme by focusing
on the largest of the German Protestant Landeskirchen. Here
I could explain why the Weimar Republic failed to elicit
respect. But the book did not proceed chronologically to
explain why Nazism prevailed among many respectable
church people, at least during the first years of the Third
Reich. That question still boggles my mind.
My Fulbright year drew to a close as the U.S. Army
beckoned and as my stipend gave out in the summer of
1954. The year had turned out to be the grand adventure
that I had anticipated. I bade farewell to friends in Tübingen,
traveled south to Gibraltar, and boarded a waiting ocean
liner for home and family.

Family Ties
by Chalmers MacCormick
MY JOURNEY TO GERMANY in late summer
1953 was altogether satisfactory, enhanced as it was by the
close companionship that I enjoyed with my bride of three
months, who was a German by birth. This event was also
enhanced by the presence on board the S.S. Independence of
other Fulbright scholars who constituted the equivalent of a
high-grade chamber orchestra. It was a glorious trip. I experienced
scarcely any seasickness and my wife had only a little,
which turned out, in retrospect, to have been morning
sickness!
Lilie and Chalmers MacCormick
Chalmers MacCormick was born in 1928 in Framingham,
Massachuesetts. He served in the U.S. Army, 1946-48,
attended Bowdoin College 1948-52; received a Danforth
Fellow 1952-59; and an A.M. from Harvard University
in 1953. Before leaving for Tübingen, where he spent his
Fulbright year, MacCormick married Lili Koelln. After
their year in Germany, he attended Harvard University
1954-58, receiving his Ph.D. in history and philosophy
of religion in 1959. MacCormick served as Professor of
Religion at Wells College 1958-1992 and has since been a
Professor Emeritus. He is the author of The Zen Catholicism
of Thomas Merton (1972) and has five children.
Our arrival and three-week stay in Bad Honnef was for
us a boon. We quickly learned that we could get pasteurized
milk just a block or two from where we were staying, and
didn’t have to depend on just wine or beer, as we had initially
been told. There were unanticipated bonuses, such as
the weekly rehearsals of the local men’s Singverein outside
our room. We heard endless renditions of such songs as
“Einmal am Rhein...,” a composition that has become a staple
in our private in-house repertoire.
We were able to visit my wife’s family in Hamburg and
near Kassel before settling in to Tübingen, which was our
main objective and which, happily, did not disappoint.
Four things distinguish the personality and character of
Tübingen and its environs. First, it’s so photogenic! Second,
in having such a fine university it exceeds merely ordinary
expectations in regard to higher education generally.
Thirdly, regarding its value to me personally, I will
mention a few professors who were outstanding. Helmuth
von Glasenapp was and remains one of the leading authorities
on Buddhism, especially Theravada Buddhism. In
1953-54 he was past his prime, but even so could provide
the impetus—as he did for me—to advance the study of the
history of religion in the global context. Whether Helmut
Thielicke, the leading light of his day, was truly such, he
assuredly commanded the awe and attention of the students.
Equally flamboyant, but decidedly more rumpled, was Otto
Michel, professor of the New Testament, whose captivating
teaching style, my wife once observed, was that of a genial,
drunken bear.
Fourthly, it was also special to us that my wife could
enroll at the university as a student of Egyptology. Professor
Dr. Hellmut Brunner and his wife, Dr. Emma Brunner-
Traut, both distinguished Egyptologists, were most gracious
and invited us to their home. Their kindness and hospitality
remain a shining memory from that year.
OUR LIVING ARRANGEMENTS gave us a window
into the lives of ordinary Germans. We sublet a room
in the Klostermühle of the Cisterician Monastery at Bebenhausen,
three miles south of Tübingen. Our room had
meter-thick walls and a genuine Gothic window dating
back to 1360 A.D., but no running water or kitchen facilities!
In good weather we could bicycle back and forth to the
university, and in bad weather we took the bus.
Our year was capped by the birth, on May 25th, of our
first child at the Frauenklinik, which was connected with the
university. Our DM 25 student insurance paid for the delivery
and the standard 10-day hospital stay for mother and
child!
It was the best year of my life!

A New Perspective
by James E. Turner
GOING TO GERMANY as a Fulbright student to
study theoretical physics in Göttingen in 1953-54 was the
dream of a lifetime. In the mid-1920s this beautiful city
was the birthplace of modern quantum theory, which has so
profoundly revolutionized physics and contemporary life. At
the university in Göttingen, I attended lectures given by,
Heisenberg himself, whose signature I proudly have in my
Studienbuch today.
From the start, and all during the
Fulbright year, I felt welcome wherever
I was. The professors and students
at the university were considerate and
helpful. I was very fortunate to find
(with great difficulty) a room with one
special German family. (Housing in Germany was extremely
scarce in 1953. One of the first practical German expressions
I learned after arriving in Göttingen was “schon besetzt!” 1 ) The
family comprised the parents and three sons about my age
and somewhat younger. They took me in and came to treat
me like a fourth son. I stayed in touch with my landlady
through numerous trips back to Germany until her death
some years ago, and I still have contact with one son in the
U. S. Spending the year with that family meant a great deal.
My best friend in Göttingen was fellow Fulbright student
Jack Waldrip. Jack arranged a blind date for me. I
went to the students’ Faschingball 2 with a visiting German
girl—a friend of a friend from out of town. My date and I,
of course, had no idea that we were meeting our future life
partners. In the ensuing months, Renate and I fell in love, I
met her family, and we hoped to get married. I had no money
or other resources, nor did she, but we made plans. After
the Fulbright year, I would return to Vanderbilt, where I
had started as a graduate student. Renate would apply for
an immigration visa to the U.S.
AFTER I LEFT GERMANY to return home we were
separated for 14 long months. Back then there was no telephoning
overseas and mail was very slow. When her papers
were finally approved, Renate arrived in New York in October
of 1955. We got married soon thereafter, a year before I
finished my degree at Vanderbilt. We have raised three kids
and will celebrate our 48th anniversary this year.
Incidentally, Jack Waldrip (who had introduced Renate
and me) and I lost contact after we left Göttingen and were
unable to locate one another in subsequent years. It was
only recently through the activities of the Fulbright Commission
in the celebration of the 50th anniversary that we
located each other again. We met last December for the first
time in more than 48 years and took up right where we left
off. We thank Bettina Ross from the Fulbright Secretariat
for her help!
I learned a lot about America
in that year, especially in
ways that would not have
occured to me otherwise.
1) Already occupied! 2) One of a number of pre-Lenten festivities in Catholic parts of Germany
AS I LOOK BACK, I can recall an unexpected benefit
that the Fulbright year had for me and likely for most of us
students. I learned a lot about America, especially in ways
that would not have occurred to me otherwise. I formed a
different perspective on relationships between people with
different cultures, languages, and values. I remember how
the German audience laughed at newsreel pictures of the
1953 Army-Navy football game.
Well, it looked silly. But some of our
folks take the game seriously. I mention
that experience only as a single,
trivial example of something that I
gave little consideration to before.
Things of importance and even deep
concern in one country can be unknown or completely
immaterial in another. It is not a matter of one being better
than another, but of respect, understanding, and tolerance. I
am not offering any great insight by relating what, of
course, is so obvious; as a Fulbright student living in a foreign
country for the first time this was new to me.
THE FULBRIGHT SCHOLARSHIP also enabled
me to learn German, which has been a significant professional
and personal asset. Together, Renate and I have translated
translated two German textbooks
on radiation and its
effects. My grandfather emigrated
from Hüttenbusch, near Bremen,
to Savannah, Georgia, in
1865 at the age of 17. He was
never able to return to Germany.
My being able to speak the language
greatly facilitated finding
the descendents of my grandfather’s
sister, still living on the
farm that he left. The family living
there now has a picture of
their great-great grandparents
which is the same picture my
mother had in Savannah of her
grandparents. Our relationship
has thus been established definitely
as second cousins once
removed. We have had several
family members from Hüttenbusch
visit us in Oak Ridge.
What does being a part of
the first German Fulbright class
of ‘53 mean to me? As it has
turned out, … almost everything.
I am a very grateful member
of the Fulbright alumni.
30 31
James (Jim) Turner grew up in
Savannah, Georgia. He went to
Emory, Harvard, Universität
Göttingen (Fulbright), and Vanderbilt,
where he obtained a Ph.D. in
physics in 1956. He taught at Yale
before going to the Atomic Energy
Commission in Washington. In 1962
Turner joined Oak Ridge National
Laboratory and retired as a Corporate
Fellow in 1996. He also served
as an Adjunct Professor at the University
of Tennessee. He has published
extensively in the field of radiation
physics and has had an active role in
research and teaching, both nationally
and internationally. He is the
author of three textbooks.

Reminiscences on the
Fulbright Experience
by Chuck Buntschuh
AS A JUNIOR PHYSICS STUDENT at Massachusetts
Institute of Technology (MIT), I was fortunate enough
to spend the summer working in Germany under a program
sponsored by the International Student Association as a technician
in the quality control department of the Philips electric
light bulb plant in Aachen. Actually, I didn’t have much to
do—in fact my coworkers teased me when I forgot to turn the
page on the calendar, as that was my job—so I spent a lot of
time working on my language skills, touring the plant with
one of the production engineers, who taught me about the
processes of light bulb manufacture, and, best of all, getting to
know my colleagues. Becoming immersed in a different culture,
and learning that it wasn’t so terribly different after all,
Those evenings, meals in the dining hall
—with a seemingly infinite supply of
potatoes—and regular volleyball games
in the backyard provided wonderful
opporttunities to get to know other students.
and the warmth of the associations I formed, were such positive
and profound experiences that I just had to go back. Not
long after returning to school in the fall, I learned that the
Fulbright program was being expanded to Germany. I lost no
time in applying and was thrilled to be accepted.
AS A MEMBER of the first Fulbright class in 1953 I
matriculated at the Georg-August Universität in Göttingen
to study physics. Early on I found a place at the Max Planck
Institut für Physik in Göttingen where Werner Heisenberg
and Karl Wirtz were co-directors. Professor Wirtz, who led
up the experimental physics activities, was my mentor and
encouraged me to undertake a project on measuring some
properties of neutron diffusion in graphite, a subject related
to nuclear reactor physics, a field in which the Institut was
heavily engaged.
I was among the fortunate few who applied for and
received a one-year extension to my grant, enabling me to
complete my laboratory work, write a Diplomarbeit, and earn
a Diplomphysiker degree. Even though my later career took
some turns and I moved away from reactor physics, the
immediate result was, after returning to the U.S. and beginning
my two-year tour of duty in the Air Force, that I was
assigned as a nuclear engineer in the project office for the
design and construction of a nuclear test reactor. The Göttingen
training not only served me well in that position, it was
terrific preparation for research and study on returning to
grad school after the service.
ALTHOUGH I HAD HAD SEVERAL YEARS OF
GERMAN in high school, I had to struggle during the
summer in Aachen to become reasonably proficient in the
language. One time I went into a shoe shop to purchase
some polish for my white bucks. The salesperson asked me,
“Wild- oder Glattleder?” Without my dictionary, I was lost,
and had to return the next day and reply, “Wild!” By the end
of the summer, however, I was feeling pretty confident. But
the following year, in Göttingen, in a university setting, I
was virtually blown away by the more sophisticated level of
the conversation compared to that of the factory. So much so
that it took until about Christmas for me to feel really comfortable.
GÖTTINGEN, A LOVELY UNIVERSITY TOWN
of about 80,000 people—today it has over a half a million—
was mercifully spared by the Second World War, making it a
delightful place to live and study. (Aachen, on the other
hand, was working diligently to overcome the devastation of
the Battle of the Bulge.) I loved the walk from the Nansen
Haus, where I lived, to the lab, which took me through a
couple of parks with inspiring statues of famous Göttingen
physicists like Gauß and Weber. And, of course, there was
the Konditorei which Jim Turner and Jack Waldrip, the two
other first-year Fulbrighters in Göttingen, and I frequented
enough to claim our favorite spot as our Stammtisch.
There is a large plaza in front of the Göttinger Rathaus in
the middle of which is a fountain surmounted by a statue of
a young girl and her goose. It is called the Gänseliesel. It is
supposed to be a tradition that every student has to kiss her
before graduating. I’m not sure how many students actually
observe this tradition, but shortly before my final oral exams,
my friends insisted I had to do it.
IN GÖTTINGEN, I lived in the Fridtjof Nansen
Haus, an international student home founded by Rev. Olav
Brennhovd just a year or so earlier. The Nansen Haus housed
about 100 students, half German and half from countries all
around the world. Probably my fondest reminiscences of
Göttingen center around the Nansen Haus and its social life.
There were monthly Hausabende in which we all gathered in
the main hall for a party, often accompanied by some formal
presentation or activity. Those evenings, meals in the dining
hall—with a seemingly infinite supply of potatoes—and regular
impromptu volleyball games in the backyard provided
wonderful opportunities to mix with, and get to know, students
not in one’s smaller circle of friends. For the smaller
groups, afternoon tea, trips to the movies, and walks in the
nearby woods were always popular. I shall always cherish
having lived and interacted with such a diverse and fascinating
group of people.

Charles Buntschuh, born in 1931 in New Bedford, MA,
attended school on Long Island, NY, and then received a
B.S. in physics from MIT in 1953. On his Fulbright
grant, he attended Georg-August Univerität in Göttingen,
where he earned the Diplom-Physiker degree (physics) in
1955. Following two years in the Air Force in Ohio,
Buntschuh returned to MIT where he received his Ph.D. in
1964. While completing his degree, he started working as a
microwave engineer at Microwave Associates, Inc. in Massachusetts,
where he remained until 1980. He continued to be
employed as a microwave engineer until retirement in 1998,
first at the Narda Microwave Corporation and then at
Northrop-Grumman. Buntschuh has four daughters, one of
whom moved to Germany in 1985, where she married and
has two young daughters being raised bilingually.
Since 1901 the Gänseliesel of Göttingen has smilingly
received the kisses of countless fresh Ph.D. graduates
from the Georg August Universität.
A rousing game of
volleyball in front of
the Nansen Haus.
32 33
Buntschuh (right) with
friends Klaus Biewald
and Gunnar Clausen
enjoy afternoon tea.

Nach Deutschland
mit Frau und Kind
by Sylvan Burgstahler
Sylvan Burgstahler was a professor of mathematics at the
University of Minnesota Duluth until his retirement in
1994. He published several papers during his career—most
notably on an algorithm that is the best known procedure for
solving polynomial equations—but was even more distinguished
by his service to his profession. Burgstahler served as
Head of the Department of Mathematics at his university
from 1963-72, President of the North Central Section of
the Mathematical Association of America, 1975-76, and
Governor of the Section from 1980-84.
IN THE SPRING OF 1953 I received a letter offering
me a Fulbright scholarship to study mathematics at the
Universität Göttingen during the 1953-54 academic year. I
was then a teaching assistant and master’s degree candidate
at the University of Minnesota, hence I was probably at
about the same level of training and experience in my field
as others who received similar scholarship offers that
spring. Unlike most of the others, however, I was married
and what made my situation even more unusual was that
my wife was six months pregnant with our first child when
the letter arrived!
Prior to receiving the scholarship offer, I had accepted
an internship for the summer of 1953 with Bell Telephone’s
West Street Labs in New York City. If I accepted
the scholarship instead, my wife would have to meet the
challenges of our baby’s first year without help from family
or friends and for much of that time she would also have to
manage our household in a country where both customs
and language would be unfamiliar to her! As it turned out,
the 15 months we were away from Minneapolis were richly
rewarding, but my wife couldn’t be certain of that outcome
in the spring of 1953, so I will forever be grateful to her
for encouraging me to accept the scholarship!
A son was born to us on May 2nd, I was awarded my
master’s degree a month later, and a week after that we set
off for New York City on the first leg of what remains the
most memorable journey of our lives—even though we
have since visited more than 60 countries across the globe.
I FELT READY TO HANDLE academic life in Germany
since I had studied German in high school and was
confident of my preparation in mathematics. I was also
confident of my understanding of European history, geography,
and politics because books I had read in my childhood
about the 1914-18 war had given me a strong interest
in world affairs that deepened further during the 1939-
45 war and continued through the post-war years. On the
other hand, I was concerned that my scanty background in
the fine arts might lessen the benefits of European travel so
I spent much of my free time that summer studying art,
sculpture, and architecture. That effort paid huge dividends
later, but I should have also studied more history
that summer because I later found numerous gaps in my
understanding of events in Europe prior to 1900.
On September 4th we boarded the liner, S.S. Independence,
and set sail for Europe. Within hours I bumped into
Barbara Bahe—my German teacher in high school and later
a professor of languages at Luther College in Iowa. She
was headed for Germany as part of a Fulbright faculty
exchange program. Conversations with her enlivened the
voyage and so did the process of making friends with other
Fulbrighters. Many of them had studied music at the Juilliard
Conservatory so the people who showed up a few days
later for “Amateur Night” in the First Class lounge were
treated to thoroughly professional performances!
THE EUROPEAN PHASE of our adventure began
with a walking tour of Lisbon. After disembarking from
the ship in Genoa a couple of days later, we traveled by
railroad to Bad Honnef am Rhein where we spent three
weeks brushing up on German and learning about contemporary
life in Germany. While there, my family stayed in a
chateau on the shore of the Rhine, about a kilometer south
of town. Our room was pleasant enough, but traveling to
and from town while pushing our baby in his kinderwagen
was so tiresome that within days we purchased a used VW
to give us greater mobility. That car had been driven hard
by several previous owners, but it served us well during
our stay in Europe. In fact, it was the main reason we
enjoyed our year as much as we did because it helped us
visit 10 different countries during times when classes
weren’t in session. Those travels, and travels in Britain
after we left Germany, taught me a great deal about all
sorts of human achievements besides those I was studying
in my mathematics classes.
The fact that my wife and I conversed in English
undoubtedly kept me from learning German as well as I
might have if I had been alone in Germany, but in every
other respect, having my family with me was beneficial. In
particular, my wife and I learned a great deal about family
life in Germany by experiencing it and we had no trouble
establishing rapport with strangers anywhere in Europe
whenever our baby was nearby.
Our need for cooking facilities and for extra living
space led us to rent space from three sisters and their elderly
mother who lived on the third floor of their large home.
We had our own bedroom and sitting room but we shared
the bathroom and the kitchen with our landladies. Once

Sometimes you
have to ask for
directions.
The Family
Burgstahler stop
their VW to ask
a Göttingen
traffic cop for
directions.
The Fulbright
year was an
adventure for
families too.
Here Mrs.
Burgstahler
learns from the
landlady how to
light the coal
stove.
they warmed up to us, those women taught us a great deal
about German customs and traditions, but we learned even
more from everyday experiences. For example, for many
Fulbrighters, places like open-air markets, butcher shops,
and dairies were little more than photo opportunities, but
to us they were places where we had to shop almost every
single day in order to obtain life’s necessities! Similarly,
taking our son to a pediatrician for checkups gave us a
glimpse of German medical care that few other Fulbrighters
had a chance to see.
To this day I cannot decide whether my Fulbright
helped or hurt my development as a mathematician because
in some respects it did both. Although I profited from the
opportunity to take classes from world-renowned scholars
like Nobel Laureate Werner Heisenberg, when I returned
to Minneapolis to work towards my doctorate, I found that
I had fallen behind my cohort of graduate students and in
some respects I never quite caught up with them again.
On the other hand, the richness of the experiences I had in
Off to work. Burgstahler kisses his son
before heading off to the University.
34 35
Europe served me well when I had to deal with people
from different backgrounds during my career. The cultural
aspects of those experiences also led me to create courses to
help non-majors understand the cultural consequences of
mathematical ideas.
Indeed, I taught a course similar to that in my school’s
University-for-Seniors program after I retired! Although I
am proud of the papers I published during my career and
take pride in the strengthening of my department that
occurred while I headed it, I am equally proud of those cultural
courses and of the effort I made throughout my career
to foster interactions between mathematics and other disciplines.
In summary, I believe that my year in Europe helped
make me a mathematics professor with an unusually wide
range of interests. Others will have to decide if that justifies
the expense of sending me abroad!

My Germany
by Donald H. Crosby
More common than the rubble heaps were the construction sites. Here workers put the finishing touches on the Munich Bahnhof.
NO DOUBT my fellow grantees of the pioneer class of
Fulbright exchange students, 1953-54, will have interesting
tales to tell of the “swinging life” on the S.S. Independence,
the vessel that carried us all from New York to Genoa in the
fall of 1953. I, alas, was too busy looking after a seasick wife
and a cranky toddler to have very much fun!
Besides, I had other concerns. Being 27 years old at the
time, I was aware of the fact that I and my fellow grantees
had spent approximately fifteen of our formative years,
1933-1948, in what one can only call an anti-German environment.
Our group would therefore be the first, entrusted
with the ticklish task of building bridges between the USA
and Germany—the country that had not only suffered “bad
press” from 1933 onwards, but had been the formal enemy
of the USA between 1941 and 1945.
Not until after the Berlin Airlift did Americans begin to
read favorable reports on the “spirit” of Berliners, praise
which slowly began to be applied to all Germans, who by
now were something like our “allies” in the Cold War.
Despite some initial skepticism—Time magazine had never
heard of Konrad Adenauer!—the formation of the Federal
Republic was greeted as a hopeful sign of a reborn—and presumably
better—Germany. Since the friendship between the
U.S. and Germany was both young—it dated from 1949 at
the earliest—and fragile, a great responsibility rested on our
shoulders. Our Class of 1953-54, therefore, had had approximately
five years—not a long time, historically speaking—
to adjust to the “new” Germany—this after fifteen years of
unremitting negative propaganda! How we comported ourselves
in Germany, how we would interact with Germans,
how Germans might interact with us: these were factors with
the potential of determining the future of the Fulbright
exchange program in Germany.
At this point I should point out that I wasn’t quite
representative of the Class of 1953-54, many of whom did
not speak German well and had enjoyed only limited contact
with German history and culture. By contrast, I was a
semi-finished Germanist blessed with near-native fluency
in German; in addition, I had been immersed in German
music since the age of ten. My Germany, therefore, was the
Germany of Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, Wagner, Goethe,
Schiller, Kleist, and Moerike. One can imagine how conflicted
I was during the Nazi-years and especially during the war
years, when I was torn between my patriotic duty to “hate”
the Germans and my heartbreak at reading of the destruction
of cities, that to me, were repositories of German history
and culture.
Given my preparation for life in Germany, my integration
into German life was easier for me than for my classmates,
yet even I encountered surprises: “pillboxes” left over

from the war on the road to Bad Honnef; the destruction
surrounding the cathedral in Köln; the shabby clothes of
many Germans; the prevalence of bicycles in the streets in
place of the automobiles Americans were accustomed to seeing;
the piles of rubble still visible in every German city I
visited; the yawning gaps between buildings; the lack of
almost any form of luxury.
MY GREATEST SURPRISES WERE POSITIVE:
the absence of any visible anti-American feeling; the lack of
recriminations about the destruction American planes had
inflicted on the country; the lack of self-pity; and a remarkable
objectivity about assessing blame for the general carnage
of the war. Only once did I hear a criticism of the American
air attack on Germany, and that was in the context of the
destruction of Dresden, about which I—a former member of
the U.S. Air Force—had previously heard nothing!
As for my fellow grantees, I soon learned that my fears
about their reaction to Germany and the Germans had been
unfounded. At the end of a typical orientation day, we would
usually get together and compare impressions, which were
almost invariably favorable. Each of us had anecdotes to
relate, many of them humorous, and I recall no condescension
towards the Germans we had encountered, even though
Donald H. Crosby was born in New York City in 1927. He served in the U.S. Air Force between 1945-47. After majoring in
English at New York University, Crosby studied German Literature at Princeton University, from which he received a Ph.D. in
1955. As a pre-doctoral student at Princeton, Crosby was awarded a Fulbright fellowship for study at the Universität München
from 1953-54. Author of many studies in the area of German literature and music, Crosby taught at Indiana University, the
University of Kansas, the City University of New York, and the University of Connecticut, where he is Professor Emeritus of
German Studies. Still active as a lecturer for the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., Crosby resides in Springfield,
Virginia.
A FULBRIGHT YEAR IN MUNICH was the decisive
turning point of my life and literally the crossroads of
my career. After a somewhat rocky ocean crossing on the
U.S. Independence and a whirlwind train ride from Genoa to
Germany, we arrived at the picturesque Rhineland town of
Bad Honnef for several weeks of orientation. Our stay at the
pension Vater Rhein was memorable—fresh Brötchen 1 with
delicious German coffee were a gourmet breakfast delight
for this American’s taste buds and have remained so to this
day. I still take a sentimental journey to this locale whenever
I am in the vicinity and recall that first impression of
German culture—in spite of the changes a half century has
wrought. Our rigorous orientation program in Bad Honnef
was a challenge, and the encounter with a melange of students
and professors from various disciplines brought a
sense of excitement to my parochial heart.
36 37
most Germans in those days were living under conditions
that seemed terribly “primitive” to us spoiled Americans.
Likewise, I can recall no instance of hostile or discriminatory
behavior towards Americans during our orientation period.
On the contrary. Tradesmen and professionals in Bad Honnef,
such as the English-speaking couple who owned the
Apotheke Willi Sick, went out of their way to assist Americans
who needed practical advice but who were still struggling
with the German language.
The impressions I had gained at Bad Honnef carried over
into my stay at my “home base” of Munich. As an example of
tolerance on both sides, I recall that a blatantly anti-Semitic
remark passed by a certain professor at the University of
Munich was shrugged off by one of our Jewish grantees with
the comment, “Oh well, give him some time—he’ll learn!”
Time and space will not permit the inclusion of my first
impressions of academic life at the University of Munich in
Germany in 1953, except to say that despite freshly erected,
wet concrete walls, puddles in corridors, poorly dressed professors
and students, woefully inadequate libraries, and freezing
lecture halls, the spirit of learning, the spirit of Goethe,
Kant, and, yes, Heine, like the Germany itself, had been
reborn.
Fulbright Memorabilia
by John Fetzer
The subsequent year in Munich was magical;
Akademiestrasse 21, about two blocks from the university
and directly across from the Kunstakademie left an indelible
mark on my memory, as did some of the still bomb-damaged
streets in the vicinity as well as my landlady, who
apparently had little love for Americans.
Vorlesungen, Seminare and Hauptseminare 2 ran the gamut
from Germanic philology, medieval and modern lyric poetry,
and Wagnerian operas, to Shakespearean drama. In short, I
enrolled for a full forty hours a week, began my day at 7:30
a.m. and staggered home at 7:00 p.m., exhausted but exhilarated.
In crowded lectures, Hans Heinrich Borchert, Arthur
Kutscher, Romano Guardini, Friedrich Wentzlaff-Eggebert,
Wolfgang Clemens, Helmut Motekat, and some less fabled
stars illuminated the academic heavens for me. How strange
it felt on one less auspicious occasion, however, to be the
only student in a huge hall, when after a few days, all the

others had deserted the course, and the
downcast speaker, unable to address me,
his lone auditor with the standard
“Meine Damen und Herren,” 3 came up
with the designation “der einzige Treue.” 4
And what a contrast it was to wrestle
with the incomprehensible Bavarian
dialect on the streets after basking
in eloquent high German in the Aula!
Then, there were the literary colloquia
in the evenings with authors such as
Leonard Franck reading from their
latest works, not to mention the solo
recitals with such living legends as
Wilhelm Kempff or the concerts of the
dynamic Eugen Jochem and the Bavarian
State Orchestra.
Literally every evening was spent
at either some musical event or at the
theater, with Elisabeth Schwarzkopf,
for instance, singing the role of the
Marschallin in Rosenkavalier at the
Prinzregenten or at the Kleine
Komödie, where the German premiere
of Beckett’s Waiting for Godot was being
performed. And we enjoyed all of this
at student prices—three Marks or so for
very good seats purchased at the very
last minute (the exchange rate at the
time being 4.20 DM to the dollar!).
What treasures were housed at the
Haus der Kunst or at the Alte
Pinakothek. Never before or since have
my days been so replete with cultural
icons. Of course, there were also the
less highbrow, yet unforgettable,
evenings at a Schwabing Bierstube 5 or
the hours spent strolling along the
Isar, down Ludwigstrasse, around the
Königsplatz, or through the English
Garden. The atmosphere in Munich
was saturated with art and culture, and
I was the sponge that never ceased to
soak it all up.
To be sure, there were moments of
personal disappointment, such as the
day when I was seated in a large lecture
hall and a student approached me
and asked: “Ist der Platz neben Ihnen
frei?” I nodded and replied with a single
word: “Ja,” to which he responded—much
to my dismay—“Oh, Sie
sind Amerikaner.” 6 My as yet unpolished
German had been exposed by a
single monosyllable, and over the years
I have pondered exactly how this happened,
but no definitive answer was
forthcoming. Was the “a” in “Ja” perhaps
too short or too Anglicized?
John Fetzer in 1953
John Fetzer’s twenty-eight-year career
at UC Davis (1965-93) consisted of
two stints as Chairman of the Department,
two visiting professorships
(Dartmouth in 1976, the University
of Exeter, England ,1990-91), the
Directorship of a Summer Institute for
German Language and Culture in
Santa Barbara (1987-92), as well as
a plethora of graduate and undergraduate
courses in German culture, literature,
and music. Fetzer is also the
author of two books on Clemens
Brentano and two on Thomas Mann,
as well as approximately fifty articles
and essays (his colleagues honored him
with a Festschrift in 1996). In addition
to several research grants from the
university, Fetzer also received fellowships
from the American Philosophical
Society, the Guggenheim Foundation,
and then, “squaring the circle,” as it
were, two more Fulbright awards: a
summer seminar in Bonn-Berlin and a
travel grant in conjunction with the
Exeter visiting professorship.
On the other hand, tourist high
points of the year consisted of day trips
such as an excursion to the Drachenfels,
where we had a panoramic view overlooking
the sun-drenched Rhine, while
sipping wine at a picturesque locale; an
ASTA-sponsored, whirlwind tour of
Italy and Sicily on a shoestring budget,
or, on a grand scale, the Fulbrightsponsored
journey to the not yet
walled-in, but nevertheless sporadically
barb-wired, East Berlin, where a short
time before, on June 17, 1953, the
workers had shown their disdain for
conditions under the current regime, a
precursor of trends which, a generation
later would, with unbelievable dispatch,
culminate in sweeping reforms.
Returning to the U.S. in 1954 gave
me somewhat of a reverse cultural
shock, but I was now bent on becoming
a dyed-in-the-wool Germanist.
Graduate studies at Columbia were relatively
easy given my comprehensive
Munich background and intensive
course load. In the midst of an M.A.
program, however, the military draft
intervened, and even though I pleaded
with the Army to be sent to Germany,
I had to settle for two years in Georgia.
However, my experience at Columbia
as a teaching assistant made it possible
for me to become an instructor of German
in the evening extension division
of the University of Georgia in Augusta.
During this time I also completed
my master’s thesis, writing in the barracks
at night and on the weekends, all
the while ignoring the teasing comments
from my buddies, who had little
interest in such an esoteric enterprise.
Then, with my M.A. in hand and
the military service behind me, it was
off to the University of California,
Berkeley for the Ph.D. program (1958-
62). Here, among other things, I won
the heart of my future bride by tutoring
this native German speaker in the
rudiments of grammar. Barely escaping
the student uprisings of the turbulent
1960s, my wife and I moved on to
Northwestern University near Chicago
for my first real teaching job (1962-
65). However, when the severity of the
interminable Lake Michigan winters
and the weltering Chicago summers
became too much for my wife, who
initially had wanted to “experience the
seasons again,” we

fled back to the perennial California sunshine and to the
Davis Campus of the University of California (which, in those
halcyon days for the humanities, had five new positions in
German!). Even the offer to become the Head of the German
Department at the Chicago Circle Campus of the University
of Illinois several years later could not entice us back to the
Midwest. Everything came full circle with two more Fulbright
awards: a summer seminar in Bonn-Berlin and a travel
grant in conjunction with a visiting professorship to the University
of Exeter, England. It is symbolically significant that
Fulbright should “frame” my entire academic career.
38 39
The fiftieth anniversary of the program, a decade after
my retirement, gave me occasion to rethink the central and
seminal role of the original Fulbright year in my own academic
career and personal development. It is no exaggeration
to conclude that, because of the unique opportunity to
live and learn in Germany with no (or very few) strings
attached, I, personally, had a wonderful life. In the final
analysis, the program offered the grantees even more than
the name “Fulbright” implies: both literally and figuratively
we enjoyed “fuller” and “brighter” futures because of this
initial impetus.
1) Rolls 2) Different types of German university classes 3) Ladies and gentlemen 4) The only faithful one 5) Schwabing, a district of Munich favored by students.
Bierstube, a pub 6) “Is the seat next to you free?” “Yes” “Oh, you are an American.”
Living in Munich
by Ben Freedman
THE COMPOSER PETER ILLICH TCHAIKOVSKY
had Madam von Meck to be his sponsor, his “angel.” My
“angel” was the Fulbright Commission, which, in 1953,
awarded me a grant enabling me to live in Munich, study
at the Akademie der Bildenden Künste and to experience
the culture of Germany.
The complex concerns of a developing young artist
such as earning income, having time for studio work, and
having time for professional growth and development are
collectively difficult problems. The Fulbright grant provided
the support for my ambitious plans to paint, to travel,
and to do studio research. Living in Munich, painting in
classes at the Akademie, attending critiques, and visiting
museums and galleries were rich and nourishing experiences
needed to achieve my hoped for progress.
At the conclusion of the grant duration, I, indeed, felt
successful. I felt completely committed to my life as a
striving painter. I gained more energy and determination
than ever before. I was able to face my future with great
enthusiasm, intensity, and sacred endeavor.
My professor at Washington University in Saint Louis,
Carl Holty, had lived in Munich as a young man and
encouraged me to seek “the great Munich experience.”
The city’s history, traditions, and its development of
modern German art are striking. The city had been to
painters, at the turn of the century, what stars represent to
professional astronomers. Munich’s history of support and
inspiration for painters has deep roots. The local color, as
well as the city’s many museums and collections are stimulating.
The Blue Rider group and many pioneers of modern
European painting have had exciting experience living
in the city of beer, art, crafts and bohemians.
Professor Holty had prepared me to admire and comprehend
this complex city. I was not disappointed with
this fresh new adventure. I enjoyed my work at the Munich
Akademie. The diverse
student body, Professor Ernst
Geitlinger’s instruction in
painting, and exhilarating
visits to museums and galleries
were added rewards. The art
supply shops were splendid.
Painters here were given high
status and priority. Munich
was an artistic Jerusalem for
all painters who accepted the
challenge. This was the city
of Kirchner, Corinth, Nolde,
Kokoschka, and Kandinsky.
Max Beckmann, who taught
at Washington University in
Saint Louis, my alma mater,
also lived in Munich.
MY EXPECTATIONS
were greatly stimulated, my
adrenaline was bubbling!
I was excited and energized by
my new life. I was not at all
uncomfortable in my new
environment and its challenges.
My wife Flo, and I
had felt some anxiety at the
thought of living in Germany.
We are both Jewish. (The end
of World War II and the history
of the Third Reich were
fairly recent.) But, life was
going well for us. We were
learning, experiencing our new
existence, enjoying our new
Benjamin Freedman was born a triplet in
1930, during the Depression. He grew up
in Orleans Parish, Louisiana. Even as he
attended Fortier High School for boys he
was already excited by the visual arts.
Freedman attended Louisiana State University
in Baton Rouge before transferring
to Washington University in St. Louis,
Missouri, influenced by the fact that artist
Max Beckman had taught there. After
graduation and marriage in 1953, his
wife and he traveled to Munich to attend
the Akademie on the sponsorship of the
Fulbright program. After spending two
years in the U.S. Army, Freedman attended
the University of Arizona as a graduate
student. In 1957 he joined the faculty at
West Virginia University teaching painting,
drawing, and design. He retired in
1989 as Professor Emeritus having taught
for thirty-two years. He continues to paint,
to exhibit, and to collect.

marriage, and encountering the spirited city of Munich. The
new changes were uncharted. They were beautiful and
inspiring. These are the sketches I bare from my memory.
Flo and I had been married for three months when we
left for Germany. We have now been married almost fifty
years.
We arrived at the Munich central train station with other
Fulbright students from the Rhineland orientation program.
Staff members met our train, some from the American Consulate
and the Fulbright administration. We were assigned
to nearby hotels where we remained until permanent quarters
were located.
MUNICH WAS NOISY AND FRANTIC. Reconstruction
was a twenty-four hour process. Heavy construction
and engineering equipment were everywhere. The city was
in a state of transition from war to rebuilding. The ugly
Ringing in the New Year in their
small Munich apartment.
A toast to the last night in Bad Honnef, Ben
(right, standing) and Flo (center) Freedman
celebrate with new friends.
scars of war, bombings, fire, and death were everywhere. The
conversion from destruction to restoration was evident.
Noise and dust mingled with the aroma of lumber and welding.
Flood lamps blazed all night, assisting the construction
workers. The heavy odor of freshly poured concrete, wet
sand, chemicals, truck emissions, the traffic noise, the cooking
of street vendors, all made a strong impression. The
smell of sausage, baked goods, cheese, kerosene, and fuel oil
added to the mix. The city streets were filled with food and
peddlers. The thick smell of beeswax candles in the churches
and damp stone streets were unforgettable. Famous beer
halls and restaurants and fine specialty shops added to the
vivid sensations. They are explicit and express the rich character
of this great, Bavarian city. The sting of winters’ cold,
crowded restaurants, public markets and small shops were
memorable, impressive, and unforgettable.
Freedman and several other
Fulbrighters studied at the
Akademie der Bildenden
Künste in Munich.
Dressed for Fasching, the Freedman’s
attend the Modell Ball in the Haus
der Kunst.

A Dream of a Lifetime
by Trudy Gilgenast
AS I REFLECT on the wonderful opportunity I had in
1953, I realize how fortunate I was to have been a member
of the first Fulbright class and attend the Universität
München. It was an exceptional opportunity that prepared
me for a lifetime career teaching German, as well as bringing
me a step closer to understanding and learning more
about my own heritage. It was the dream of a lifetime!
During that year in München, I witnessed history in the
making with visits to Bonn and Berlin. I listened to Chancellor
Adenauer speak and heard stories of the horrors of
World War II. All had a profound impact on how I viewed
this land of my forefathers. The opportunity to study at the
Universität Munich with renowned professors of the day,
and spend a year touring Germany, getting to know the
people, their traditions, foods, and festivals, were all highlights
that have greatly influenced my teaching career and
my entire life.
The year abroad made an indelible imprint on my teaching
approach. I came to understand and appreciate the value
of being comfortable in a second language and I wanted to
pass this on to my students. I did so during the nine years I
taught German in the local public high schools and during
29 years at the University of Delaware. I experimented with
various techniques and focused more on the speaking aspect
of a foreign language so that eventually many of my classes
were conducted entirely in German. Conversation made my
classes come alive and students were very enthusiastic. I
encouraged them to major in German, to study abroad, or
to minor in German as an asset to their chosen careers, as
well as for their own edification. Many have gone on to further
study, won scholarships and awards, and had successful
careers because of their proficiency in the German language.
Early on in my career, I became active in local and
national professional organizations and continued to hone my
skills through additional summer grants, Fulbright seminars,
and further study abroad. In 1957, I earned a master’s
degree in German from Middlebury College, Vermont. Then
in 1970, almost 20 years after my first Fulbright, I was
awarded a one year Fulbright teacher exchange grant at the
Max-Josef Stift in Munich. Experiencing Germany, now on a
professional level, opened new doors and provided opportunities
to interact and learn with faculty abroad. I am still in
touch with several teachers who have remained close friends.
Clearly, the year at the Max-Josef Stift had a strong influence
on my teaching as I incorporated several conversation techniques,
observed abroad, into my classes at the University of
Delaware. Believing strongly in the first-hand experience, I
encouraged study abroad and led several student groups to
Germany for travel and study during semester and winter
sessions. Over the years, I continued to thoroughly enjoy my
teaching, enhanced my classroom presentations with many
experiences from my Fulbright years, and wrote numerous
articles on language teaching methods.
Along the way, I became
intrigued in and published
an article on the Pennsylvania
German broadside. This
has grown into a deeper
interest and I am currently
preparing a manuscript for
publication. During a sabbatical
semester in 1982 I
wrote, Das Mehl Ist Anders, a
cookbook of German recipes
and traditions. Now in its
fifth printing, it has proven
to be popular with several
generations of those with a
German background. I
recently co-authored a book,
The Saengerbund: A 150 Year
History of the German Club in
Delaware, in celebration of
its 150th anniversary during
2003.
Although now a professor
emerita, I have continued
to pursue my interest in
Germany and its people by
leading group tours to some
of my favorite towns and
cities in different parts of
the country. For many years,
I have been active in our
local Saengerbund by singing
in the chorus and serving on
the Culture Committee.
This committee supports
and encourages programs
that share the German language,
customs, and traditions
with members and the
community. High school
students of German are
invited for a day of workshops
and exposure to a
“German” atmosphere. Oth-
40 41
A native of Delaware, Trudy Gilgenast
earned a B.A. in Education from the
University of Delaware in 1953 and an
M.A. in German from Middlebury College,
VT in 1957. She was a Fulbright
Scholar in Munich in 1953 and had a
Fulbright Teacher Scholarship in 1960 to
the Max-Josef Stift in Munich. Gilgenast
taught German at the University of
Delaware and at Conrad and Pierre S.
DuPont High Schools. She served as
Director of the University’s study abroad
programs in Vienna, Austria and
Bayreuth, Germany. Gilgenast was the
recipient of the Certificate of Merit from
the Goethe Institute and AATG in 1984
and the Federal Republic of Germany
Friendship Award in 1987. She is also
the author of Das Mehl ist Anders ( The
Flour is Different), a German-tradition
cookbook and co-author of The Saengerbund,
A 150-Year History of the German
Club in Delaware. She is currently
preparing a manuscript for publication on
Pennsylvania German Broadsides.
“The Gang:” Hildie, Flo, Trudy,
Louise, and Loel make an excursion
to Assmannshausen during
orientation.
er programs enhance and honor the traditions and keep them
alive for each new generation to experience and enjoy.
My enthusiasm was sparked many years ago by an inspiring
year abroad as a young girl just out of college. It was a
year highlighted by experiences and special memories.
Although my energies might be slower today, my enthusiasm
has not waned in passing on the torch of German language,
customs, traditions, and sharing experiences with family,
friends, and other interested people.

Everywhere I Turn,
a New Experience is Waiting
by Richard H. Hillsley
I LIVED WITH GERMAN FAMILIES in the summer
of 1950 in Soest, Westphalia, under the Experiment in
International Living—with the family of Heinz Enneman
for the first half of the summer and in the second half with
the von Bardelebens.
We lived in the half of the von Bardelebens’ beautiful
house that had not been destroyed. They gave me a taste of
Goldwasser, schnapps with the golden flakes. We played ping
pong at the local school and I helped harvest wheat in their
field just outside the city wall, tying the shocks by hand
using some of the wheat as a tie. The family said that after
the war, they had to guard the potatoes in the field because
people were so hungry; some people got potatoes anyway.
We walked on the city wall in the moonlight. We danced
the Vienese waltz. Unfortunately, I got worms from eating
cherries out of their tree at night and had to be wormed like
a puppy. We visited a storage battery factory just after its
Wiederaufbau. 1 Mr. von Bardeleben was a mining engineer;
once he took me in a bucket on an Eimerfahrt 2 to the bottom
of his mine.
Walter Gaup was the local teacher in charge of the
Experiment group. He took us to visit the local school in
session, where the students kidded me by saying, “Dick ist
dick.” 3 We competed in a swim meet and went on a bicycle
trip along the Romantische Highway. We stayed in Rothenburg
and Dinkelsbühl in hostels and attended the 1950 Passion
Play in Oberammergau. I had one bicycle collision, but
that was only hard on the bike. Some of the students rode
up the hills by hanging onto the rear of trucks. The coast
down into Salzburg was fun and fast. We saw the water
fountains and jokes (guest seats, which put water under the
guests) of the king. We saw a puppet show to Eine kleine
Nachtmusik. We toured Mad Ludwig’s Castle
(Neuschwanstein), saw beautiful Barock churches and
climbed to the castle at the mouth of the Neckar. The group
never passed up a Konditorei. 4
I LIVED in the Wohnheimsiedlung Massmannplatz in
Munich with a wonderful group of German students during
my Fulbright year. The meals were Eintopf—I learned to
spoon quickly.
I took courses in statistics and mechanics. One of my
professors was Herr Dr. Foppl, it was his last year. The students
in the giant lecture room used to give him a loud foot
stomp when he arrived for class. During the time I was at
the Technische Hochschule the number of class rooms was
doubled in the Wiederaufbau, but in the beginning, I had to
run to get a place to sit. Many of the students could not buy
the texts so the professor wrote much of it on the blackboard.
There were two boards and he raised one when he
wrote on the other. We had to write quickly and much was
written in German script; I tried to sit beside friends, who
would tell me some of the words. Some of the students used
opera glasses to see the blackboard.
Since the classes were a little impersonal, I joined an
institute at the TH which did experimental stress analysis.
Their specialty was Spannungsoptik, i.e. making a three
dimensional model, stressing it, freezing the stresses in the
model, and examining the slices with polarized light to
study the stress concentration. My project was a model for
the aluminum diving tower to be installed in Nordbad in
Munich.
The institute invited me on weekend hikes in the mountains.
We saw the Adlerhof and went skiing at Oberammergau.
Unfortunately I fell down in wet snow and had to dry
everything in front in front of a Kachelofen. 5
I joined the Müncherlbach Choir under director Richter
and sang the Bach’s mass in H moll 6 in Munich.
Once a week the group I lived with had a Kegelabend ; 7
my wooden ball had a swastika on it. My friends once got
great pleasure out of getting me to drink beer out of a
boot—I got all wet.
IN THOSE DAYS, unsold opera tickets were sold to
students for two marks (50 cents) an hour before the performance.
Once I got a seat in the Königsloge. 8 If you could
not wait in line, the last row in the orchestra was reserved
for students and you could buy tickets at the cafeteria. I
went twice a week and always bought the libretto. I saw the
entire Ring and loved Tannhäuser and Der Fliegende
Holländer, but the march of the Meistersänger was the most
memorable. 9 The main opera house in Munich was not
rebuilt, but they sang at a beautiful opera house on the
main street of Munich. Always, I enjoyed seeing all the
people promenading during the intermissions.
The group I lived with went dancing frequently in
Schwabing 10 in some wonderful little places where we danced
the Viennese waltz and when possible had an Eierlikör or
Leberknödelsuppe or Glühwein. 11 We always stayed until after
the street cars stopped running. We had a long walk home,
but it was fun going down the center of the streets with
locked arms and singing at the top of our voices.
My roommate was Ernst Windsheimer, a German student
from Nürnberg. He invited me to his home. I enjoyed
the city wall at night, the Albrecht Dürer house, and the
city hall.
The group I lived with went to Fasching 12 together. They
insisted on a little “liquid preparation” in the dormitory
before the event. I had no costume so I cut holes in a burlap
bag and went as a slave with sandals. It seemed like we
danced everywhere.

WE WENT AS A GROUP to the big beer halls. At the
time, the Hofbräuhaus men’s room had troughs in the four
walls instead of urinals. Unfortunately, some poor fellow
didn’t find the closest wall and got me in the back of the
pants.
I was fond of the Schuhplattler 13 dancing across the street.
One of my friends, Gerhardt Hattel, who lived in the
dormitory, had a motorcycle. We took a trip to Venice. I
rode on the back of the bike all the way to Italy. I remember
he didn’t always want to stop when going down hills so
that I could take a picture. We had a wonderful trip in
spite of the fact that it rained the whole time. I found,
though, that the back seat has advantages in the rain.
The cafeteria, which in those days was shared between
the TH and the university, arranged trips. During vacation
I took a trip to Greece. It was mostly faculty because most
of the students could not afford the price, but it was won-
42 43
derful to be with such learned people, who could explain
some of the history and sights. I did my part by helping
the driver lift their bags on to the top of the bus, which
was a wonderful new, large Mercedes. Unfortunately, at one
point there were two mountains with a bridge between
them and the Greek road did not have enough room to turn
from the mountain road to the bridge. The driver jacked
the heavy bus up and pushed it off the jack to get the rear
of the bus around the corner.
I will never forget my departure. The students at the
dorm arranged a parade to the Bahnhof. We had two cars,
motorcycles and scooters, and about twenty people. They
got me a liter of beer and we sang all the way to the
Abteil. 14 Unfortunately, in all the excitement. It turned out
to be on the wrong train. But one of the quieter students
noted the problem in time to make the change!
1) The reconstruction (after WWII) 2) A bucket ride 3) Dick is fat 4) Bakery 5) A tall, old-fashioned, tiled stove used for heating 6) G sharp 7) Kegeln is a sport
similar to bowling 8) The king’s box 9) The Niebelungenring series, Tannhäuser, and Der Fliegende Holländer, all operas by Richard Wagner. 10) A district of Munich
favored by students 11) Egg liqueur, liver dumpling soup, hot mulled wine 12) A pre-Lenten celebration in Catholic parts of Germany 13) a dance in which the dancer
slaps his shoes 14) compartment
Richard (Dick) Hillsley was raised in Larchmont, NY. He took his undergraduate degree from Cornell University before
spending his Fulbright year at the Technische Hochschule München. Later he was awarded a Ph.D. in control engineering
from MIT and an MBA from Harvard Business School. In his career as an engineer Hillsley worked for 32 years at IBM
(eventually becoming Manager of the Space System Analysis Dept.), four years at Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory,
and four years at Lockhead Martin. Among his accomplishments are the design of the Frequency-Azimuth display in the
BQQ5-C sonar system for attack submarines, climbing the tower beside the Saturn rocket, and four test cruises on atomic submarines
including the Technical Evaluation Cruise for the BQQ5-C system, and one trip, which circumnavigated the globe.
Together with his wife Audrey, Hillsley has “31 children”—6 children, their spouses, and 19 grandchildren.
A Voyage of Discovery
by Stephen Tonsor
DURING THE SUMMER OF 1953 my wife Caroline,
our two children, and I lived atop 9,000-foot Rufneck Peak
in the Sawtooth wilderness of central Idaho. We were
employed by the Forest Service as forest fire “look-outs.”
We came down off the peak in late August and journeyed
to Germany. This was not my first contact with a Germanspeaking
land. After three years of service as a cryptographer
in the U.S. Army in New Guinea and the Philippines, I
returned to the University of Illinois and then, because
Germany was closed, I attended the University of Zürich
in Switzerland 1948-1949.
After our orientation program in Bad Godesberg
the four of us traveled to Munich where I finished my
dissertation on Ignaz von Doellinger, the leader of the
anti-infallibalists during the First Vatican Council.
Through Gerda von der Leyden, the daughter of
Friedrich von der Leyden, the great authority on medieval
German poetry, we rented the country house of the movie
actress Heidemarie Hatheyer, then married to Kurt Reiss, a
German Jewish journalist who spent the war years in the
U.S. (Heidi Hatheyer had been a star in NS films of the
Hitler era.) The house was located in Kirchseeon, a village
on the edge of the Ebersberger Wald.
I mention this because, while I completed my doctoral
dissertation and heard lectures at the university my understanding
of post-war Germany and German society and
culture was formed by my experience in Kirchseeon. Frau
Gerda and her family, living across the road from us, were
a source of constant assistance and pleasure. Her children
accompanied us on hikes to surrounding towns and
through the forest. An old church, dating back to the Thirty
Years’ War lay just across the fields. The Rogation Days 1
processions circled through the fields. Many trips and a
considerable amount of time spent in the new Germany
could not alter the intensity of these first impressions.
LECTURES AT THE UNIVERSITY were especially
interesting. As a result of my experience in Switzerland I
was familiar with Continental university instruction. To sit

Tonsor with grandson in 2003
Stephen John Tonsor was born in Jerseyville, Illinois in 1923. He
received an A.B. degree from the University of Illinois in 1948,
and a Ph.D. in 1955. Tonsor spent his Fulbright year at the Universität
München. Upon returning to the U.S. he became of Professor
of History at the University of Michigan (1954-74). Tonsor
was a senior visiting research fellow at the Hoover Institution
(1972-73), Consultant to the Presidents Council of Economic
Advisors (1969-72) and has been an Associate of the North Central
Association since 1971, among other positions. He has been the
editor of the quarterly review Modern Age since 1970 and has
published the book Tradition and Reform in Education.
WHEN I SAW THE POSTER inviting applications for
the Fulbright program in Germany, I thought that would
be a very interesting experience. Although I had two years
of high school German, when I went to the German
department to complete the application I was told, “You
can’t speak German.” I told them I needed the form and to
write something. It must have been good enough because I
was accepted. I joined 250 new Fulbright students and we
sailed from New York to Genoa, Italy.
After our train ride from there to the holiday resort of
Bad Honnef am Rhein, we were sent to a Gymnasium where
a woman began speaking to us in German. She said, “If you
know German like the mother tongue, go to the first corner.”
Next she said, “If you can understand what I am saying
go to the second corner.” Then she switched to English
and said, “If you have ever taken German, go to the third
corner.” (That was me.) Finally she said, “If you have never
taken German go to the fourth corner.” The vast majority of
students went there, presumably singers, artists, writers,
and listen in the crowded lecture hall where Franz Schnabel 2
lectured and where every seat was filled and listeners
spilled out into the aisles was a defining experience.
To attend the smaller and less well attended lectures of
Berthold Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg 3 was both extraordinary
and humbling. Professor von der Leyden was an
occasional guest in our house.
The year we were in Germany my wife’s stepfather
was vice-president of the American Academy in Rome. He
made it possible for me to see the fantastic collections of
the Antikensammlung, which, except for a few choice pieces,
was stored away in attics. Other than that, we were able to
see the great collections of art only on later visits to
Munich.
MY YEAR IN GERMANY enabled me to finish my
doctoral dissertation, which I probably would have done
anyway, but more importantly it enabled me to understand
both pre-NS Germany and the new Germany which was
being created before my eyes. My ancestors came from Germany
in the 19th century; the Tonsors from Fürstenberg in
the 1850s, the Schmidts from Basel and Saxony Gotha in
the 1860s and the Blazers from Westphalia in the 1870s.
My return to Germany was a voyage of discovery in which
I reclaimed an important part of myself.
Developing a Taste for Travel
by John Webster
1) Rogation Days: Days of prayer, and formerly also of fasting, instituted by the
Church to appease God’s anger at man’s transgressions, to ask protection in calamities,
and to obtain a good and bountiful harvest 2) Franz Schnabel (1887-1966),
professor of history. Forced out of the Technische Universität Karlsruhe in 1936 for
opposing the Nazis. Professor of history in Munich 1947-1962 3) Son of Claus
Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg, who was executed as part of the plot to assassinate
Adolf Hitler.
and others who were happy to be in Germany but had no
German language skills.
AFTER THREE WEEKS of language instruction
we were all off to a good start. Our next adventure was a
walk to Königswinter, the next town where they were having
a wine festival. I was amazed to see people enjoying the
wine spouting out of the village fountain.
When I arrived in München, half the buildings
remained destroyed from the war. Housing was scarce. The
student housing office at the Universität Munich gave me a
list of families who were willing to rent a room. I ventured
on a streetcar to find housing and found a family with a son
my age. The parents wanted me to speak English to their
son to help him with his university studies. The family
lived in a second floor cold-water flat with a kitchen, and a
single sink and single toilet in the hall. When I wanted to
bathe, I went out to the public baths. The parents slept in
one room and I shared a room with their son. A featherbed
kept me warm during the cold winter months.

The mother took in laundry from the U.S. military
base. She heated water on the coal stove, washed the
clothes, then dried them on ropes stretching across the alley
with the aid of a pulley system. I was charged 25 marks a
month for bed, breakfast, and laundry. After the son departed
for school I would sit across the table from the parents,
who knew no English, and read a phrase from my phrase
book. They would laugh, correct my pronunciation, and we
would continue for many hours. While they were not educated,
they were fine teachers. Within a month we could
When people met me, they knew I was a
foreigner because of my accent, but they
guessed that I was from Holland or
Denmark and were very surprised to
learn that I was American.
discuss the finer points of daily life, death, and taxes.
Because classes did not start for a month, I bought a
bicycle and rode to youth hostels in Augsburg, Ulm,
Stuttgart, Tübingen, Rothenburg, Würzburg, Frankfurt,
Idar-Oberstein (they said I was the first American they had
seen since the war), Trier, Brussels, Antwerp, Rotterdam,
Amsterdam, and then back to Germany for the train ride
back to Munich. Day rooms in youth hostels were a great
way to meet people from all over the world.
Back in Munich I studied physics at the university.
Another Fulbright student was an opera singer, so we
would line up ten minutes before the opera performances,
show our student cards and acquire any unsold seats for
only two marks. On many weekends the son of my host
family took me skiing in the Alps. Chair lifts were too
expensive so we would walk up the hills, then ski down.
When the Fulbright Commission sponsored a meeting
in Berlin, all 250 Fulbright students rode a train through
the Russian zone to Berlin and were able to travel to all
Berlin sectors. The music students discovered that they
could convert West marks to East marks at a very favorable
exchange. They returned to the East zone and came back
loaded with music books.
During a vacation period I discovered that the Turkish
Maritime Line would transport students for 25% fare. I
boarded at Naples, with stops in Athens, Istanbul, Izmir,
Beirut, Alexandria, and Venice. High points were climbing
the great pyramid and visiting the Valley of the Kings at
Luxor.
The goal of the Fulbright program is to promote international
understanding. It really does. One family revealed
that they hesitated to offer a room to an American woman
because, “American women drink, smoke, and wear lots of
makeup, and they didn’t want their daughter to be exposed
to those kinds of influences.” They were pleasantly surprised
when their Fulbright scholar was modestly dressed
and behaved politely, unlike what they saw in American
movies. When people met me, they knew I was a foreigner
because of my accent, but they guessed that I was from
Holland or Denmark and were very surprised to learn that I
was American.
SPENDING A YEAR IN GERMANY really
changed my life. I learned how others live, and how they
feel about many situations. I was charmed to see children
walking to their first day of school carrying a large cornucopia
of treats their parents had given them. In Munich
during the pre-Lenten Fasching festivals there was a ball
every night. On Shrove Tuesday they made rounds carrying
a coffin and singing “Fasching is dead!” Germans were tolerant
toward interracial dating in a way that would not have
been possible in America in the early 1950s. And they
loved the German Lieder; some of the Fulbright musicians
were requested to sing at women’s meetings.
During my Fulbright year, I developed a taste for travel
and for learning about other cultures. I have taken every
chance I have had to spend time in foreign countries,
meeting the people and learning their ways. My family
has traveled with me many times (including visiting my
German family) and enjoys promoting further international
understanding.
John G. Webster received a B.E.E. degree from Cornell University, NY, in 1953,
before spending a year at the Universität München on a Fulbright scholarship. He
earned M.S.E.E. and Ph.D. degrees from the University of Rochester, Rochester,
NY, in 1965 and 1967. He is Professor Emeritus of Biomedical Engineering at
the University of Wisconsin-Madison. In the field of medical instrumentation he
continues to teach undergraduate and graduate courses, and is involved in research
on radiofrequency cardiac ablation (heating) to improve cardiac rhythm and
hepatic ablation to cure cancer. Webster is the editor of Medical instrumentation:
application and design, Third Edition, Encyclopedia of electrical and electronics
engineering, and 15 other books. He has been married to his wife Nancy since
1954. They have four children, seven grandchildren and they all enjoy travel.
War ruins greeted Webster upon his arrival in Munich.
44 45

Aus dem Leben eines
Fulbrighters
by Reinhard Wittke
THE FULBRIGHT GRANT TO MUNICH, Germany
was without question a most significant career experience. It
was a turning point in my career, providing research for the
completion of the dissertation, spice and enhancement for a
teaching career, the catalyst for the Europe international
travel study program at Eastern Michigan University, which
I later introduced, as well as an appreciation and understanding
of not only Germany and Germans, but also
Europe in general.
The grant was also extra special to me and my wife,
Bert. It made possible a return to the land of our birth. Our
families emigrated to the States in 1926 when I was five and
my Bert was four.
Meeting with the 1953ers and attending the seminars at
the 50th anniversary program in Washington D.C. in October
2002 revived many of my memories for this account. My
Tagebuch and documents provided the details.
How different Germany was for the first Fulbrighters of
1953 and the years immediately following than for the subsequent
and more recent grantees. Perhaps even more so for
me and my wife. I went as a student grantee, although I
already had experience as a teaching assistant and college
instructor. My wife and I were no longer “students,” and we
were probably older than the average grantee and had lived
faculty lives.
The first Fulbrighters arrived in Germany just eight
years after the conclusion of World War II. Conditions then
contrast starkly with conditions now. The ravages of WWII
were still very evident. Cities showed the destruction of
mass bombings. Germany was divided into zones and Berlin
into sectors. The Wirtschaftswunder 1 was in its infancy, the
infrastructure just recently in place.
Indeed, it was different from the very beginning. Today
one can travel to Germany in a day. In 1953 we boarded the
S.S. Independence on September 4, arrived in the port of
Genoa, Italy, on September 13, and then took the night
train from Genoa to Bad Honnef am Rhein, our orientation
destination, arriving on September 14.
THE ORIENTATION PROGRAM was perhaps also
different. Accommodations were scarce and the Fulbrighters
numbered about 190. Bert and I were to be housed in the
Bürgerhaus Weis, however, it was not available until two
days after we arrived. In the meanwhile, we were placed in a
very nice private home in a room with a view of the
Drachenfels 2 and a very friendly and sympathetic landlady,
but with no hot water or bathing facilities. After two days
we transferred to the Bürgerhaus Weis, a small, pleasant,
homey hotel-restaurant. It was splendid. We were wonderfully
received and in our seventeen-day stay we were made
to feel like family, even by
the dachshund Etzel.
There were entertaining
evenings at the Stammtisch
and we were escorted to
numerous sites in the surrounding
area.
The orientation program
lasted three weeks.
There was a daily program
of lectures and orientation
classes. There were also
excursions that took us to
the Bayer Fabrik in Leverkusen,
and a drive
through the beautiful
valleys of the Ahr and the
Mosel, culminating in a
wonderful dinner reception
and wine party in
Cochem sponsored by the
Bürgermeister.
Our farewell to Bad
Honnef, on October 2, was
celebrated by a Fulbright
sponsored dance and an
intimate party given us by
the Bürgerhaus Weis.
Now quo vadis?
Munich, or? Since the winter
semester did not begin
until late October we
decided to visit Bert’s relatives
in Stuttgart and the
Allgäu. In Stuttgart we
became the owners of an
Opel Kapitän, an auto left
over from a prior visit by
Bert’s family. The vehicle
would be both a blessing
and a curse. We made
every effort to sell it, and
finally succeeded in April
1954. However, for the
time being we had easier,
immediate, and comfortable
transportation. That is
how we arrived in the Allgäu
to visit our relatives.
Reinhard Wittke was born in Drossen,
Germany (now Osna Lubice) in 1921.
His family emigrated to the United
States in 1926 and he was naturalized
in 1935. In 1947 he married
Berthilda Metzger and they had a
daughter Sigrid. Wittke studied at the
University of Michigan where he
received his A.B. 1943, M.A. 1945,
and Ph.D. in medieval history, 1959.
In between he spent 1953 in Munich
on a Fulbright grant. After earning
his Ph.D., he taught public school in
Trenton, MI, 1943-45 and Rogers
City, MI, 1945 before moving on to
Mankato State College, 1949-51, and
Eastern Michigan University, 1956-
90. Wittle conducted the European
Study Program at Eastern Michigan
University, 1960-90 and in 1993.
He has been honored with the Senior
teaching award (1981), the Higher
Education Award (1989), and the
Eastern Michigan University Board of
Regents University Service Award
(1989) and is a member of the Michigan
Association of Governing Boards.

After a week with the relatives we arrived in Munich but
had no place to stay. The Akademische Auslandsstelle would
eventually help us, but they had not provided accommodations
in advance. Our first night’s stay was in the Hotel Germania,
we thought it expensive at DM 20. The search for
living quarters was on. We were not alone. We bumped into
fellow Fulbrighters Ben and Flossie Freedman in downtown
Munich. Flossie was in tears. Also no place to stay. Finally,
after five frustrating days and several unsatisfactory pensions,
25-watt light bulbs, lack of hot water and heat and without
the possibility of preparing meals we finally found living
quarters in Untermenzing, 10 km west of the center of
Munich. Frau Bauer, a WWII widow, and her two teenage
daughters and son Klaus proved to be great landlords and
friends and again it was like family.
ADJUSTING TO OUR NEW LIFE IN MUNICH,
however, would not be easy. Our accommodations were in a
Neubau and we had a small apartment. There was a living
room-study-kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The sink
had only cold running water. There was no stove on which to
cook, so we purchased a one-burner hot plate, a small stove
provided heat and required briquettes, low-wattage lighting
was the rule. Our bathroom was a plus, but taking a bath
became a Saturday ritual. It required considerable time and
preparation to heat the tank using wood shavings, paper, and
wood or briquettes for the fire. Bert would bathe. On occasion
she would invite the Bauer women to bathe. The end
result was that I would end up utilizing the public bath at
the Bahnhof. In retrospect we were quite well off, I think we
knew it at the time as well.
Battling the cold was a challenge. Our small stove,
which never achieved a room temperature of over 68-70
degrees, was not installed until the middle of November.
Installation was a problem. It was difficult to find someone
to do the work. The installer, who finally came very early
one morning, had an epileptic seizure. Several days after the
installation there was another problem, smoke. It took several
days to resolve the problem. The bedroom was not heated.
During a cold spell ice formed on the inside walls because
the Neubau had not had the time to be properly “cured.” As
a result, Bert moved into the living room and I slept in the
“refrigerator.”
We learned to live economically. We discovered that life
in Munich was expensive. One would ask why, since the ratio
of the DM to the dollar was 4.2 to 1. The student stipend
As part of the orientation,
a group of Fulbrighters
visited the
Leverkusen Bayer factory.
Identified are: John
Fetzer (top row, 3rd
from left), Charles
Hoffmann (top row,
3rd from right), Mabel
Fetzen, Bert Wittke,
Fred Love (bottom row,
2nd, 3rd, and 4th
from left).
Bert Wittke, 2003
was $1,000 or DM 4,200. We also had to guarantee another
thousand dollars for Bert. But rent was DM 100 per month.
Eierkohlen 3 during the winter months was DM 25 per hundred
weight, electricity ca. DM 20-25 a month. The Bauers
retired early because of the high cost of electricity and could
not understand why we stayed up until all hours. Community
pressure resulted in us renting a garage for our auto. How
could one park a car outside subject to all elements?! Another
25 DM per month. In addition, there was the expense for
petrol and maintenance of the “albatross.” And, of course,
there was the matter of groceries. The prices were high:
butter DM 12-16, meat ca. DM 16, coffee DM 12-16. Frau
Bauer brought the seriousness home to us when she asked us
not to throw out the used coffee grounds, but to give them
to her instead. We were fortunate that care packages came
from home. Of course, this was Munich. Bad Honnef was
undoubtedly cheaper. Our bill for 19 nights in there was
DM 133.
There were also incidental expenses such as sending
items to the cleaners. Sending an article to the cleaner was
expensive, the wait was often very long, and the result could
be questionable. At least that was our experience. As an
example, I had to have my overcoat cleaned. It required five
weeks, was expensive, and my sleeves were half way to the
elbows when I finally got it back. This was, of course,
indicative of the times. It would not happen today.
The above are not gripes or complaints. That is just the
way things were and we did adjust. Indeed, it brought us
closer to reality and, I suspect, gave us a better understanding
of how the people had to cope and make do. In that
respect I believe that the 53ers and those who came immediately
after had a different perspective from Fulbrighters in
recent years.
The living conditions depicted above constitute only part
of the story. The purpose for my being in Germany and
Munich was to do research for my doctoral dissertation in
medieval history. As a student grantee I was unable to devote
full time to research because a student was required to enroll
in courses. So I enrolled in courses related to medieval history,
medieval Latin, and medieval paleography taught by Professor
Dr. Bischoff. I also visited a seminar directed by Professor
Dr. Spörl.
I will never forget the initial class with Professor
Bischoff. After introducing himself, he minced no words
describing the course. He distributed dittoed copies of the

Fulbrighters visit a refugee camp in Eastberlin.
text and immediately asked the first person in the first row
to “read and translate.” Katastrophe! What to do? I had had
Latin, of course. Primarily classical Latin. And now medieval
Latin to be read and translated sight unseen into German. I
was in the middle row in a class of 21 students. When it
came to my turn I requested a reprieve as a Fulbright student
until I could adjust. There was a smile and consent. I
could sense the feelings of the others: an American student.
The following session I was in the last row. Next to me sat a
student, Karl Graach, who had had a minimum of seven
years of Latin. He became my tutor and good friend. Professor
Bischoff was very polite in his approach. He began every
session with the student following the last reading and
translation. The session almost invariably covered no more
than five pages. It was thorough. After a number of weeks
and after Karl and I had prepared the requisite number of
pages I told Professor Bischoff that I would participate. I
knew I was in trouble when I observed his smile. He sped
up the reading and translating so that when it came to me I
had to do the text sight unseen. I passed. But what an experience!
Most rewarding was my experience with the medieval
institute, the Monumenta Germaniae Historica, housed in a
building that today accomodates the general management of
the Bavarian State Picture Gallery. In 1953 it was a center
for art restoration. I have fond memories of Dr. Opitz as
director. The work area was small and intimate and we were
a small group. Probably because the building housed valuable
paintings, security was at a premium. One had to show
a pass upon entering as well as leaving. At lunch the greeting
was always Mahlzeit.
One would be remiss if one were to omit cultural
Munich. Munich was a city of music, opera, theater and
museums. There was every opportunity to enjoy concerts,
opera, and theater as well as visit museums. By joining the
Theatergemeinde tickets were available at extremely reduced
prices. And we did attend opera performances, concerts, and
visited museums.
There were also many good restaurants at reasonable
prices. One restaurant deserves special mention. We fondly
remember the Augustiner restaurant with not only its good
food, but the funsters Beppo Franz and his musical group.
We were also able to travel because there was ample time
between the winter and summer semesters. The “albatross”
now became a chariot. On occasion, the Fetzers, Mabel and
John, joined us. We went to Switzerland, the Austrian Tyrol
and Arlberg, Salzburg, and Vienna. The highway between
As if the
apartment
weren’t cold
enough,Wittke
and his wife
Bert visit Jenner
Peak, Austria.
Salzburg and Vienna was strictly controlled. Special permission
was required. There were checkpoints en route. We also
experienced a Vienna divided into sectors and learned that it
was strictly forbidden to enter the Russian sector.
There were also trips to northern Germany and Denmark,
the Netherlands and Alsace-Lorraine, and the
Schwarzwald. A memorable trip was Italy after Christmas.
Fourteen days, demi-pension from Munich to Sicily, and all
for the remarkable base cost of $125 for two.
Berlin was perhaps the most significant place we visited.
The Fulbright Commission made possible a visit in June of
1954. We traveled via night train from Frankfurt am Main
to the East German border with drawn shades. At the border
we cheated, we peeked and saw the heavily armed guards, it
was the same when we arrived in Berlin.
In Berlin one could see first hand the destruction as the
result of the bombings and the Russian conquest. The report
was that one sixth of all the rubble in Germany was in
Berlin. Entire city blocks were nothing but rubble. There
were visits to East Berlin, especially Alexanderplatz, and to a
refugee camp where we distributed fruit and chocolate to the
youngsters. We visited the famed Berlin cabarets and
enjoyed Berlin night life. I have been to Berlin many times
since, perhaps twenty-five. I have seen Berlin before the
Wall, during the Wall, and after the Wall.
A concluding activity was the workshop conference conducted
by the Columbus Gesellschaft in conjunction with the
American Consulate General and the UNESCO Institute held
June 24-25, 1954 in Gauting. It was a good session, summarizing
a number of aspects of student life and activities.
One other memory. I happened to be in the area of the
University when it was announced that Germany had won
the World Cup. The hordes of people in the streets made it
almost impossible to get to the Bahnhof. Wahnsinnig!
A note on language. The setting: The Kurgarten in Bad
Honnef. Sunny afternoon. Beer and wine. Waitresses went
from table to table crying “Käsestengel!” 4 One of our
Fubrighters asked why they were paging “Casey Stengel.”
He also wanted to know why they kept saying “Danke
Fieldmouse.” 5
In conclusion, I can only repeat and emphasize what was
stated in the opening paragraphs. The Fulbright program
was perhaps the most important influence in forming our
future. I attribute my career in great part to the opportunities
made possible by the Fulbright program. For that, many
thanks to the late Senator Fulbright, to Mrs. Fulbright, and
to the Fulbright Commission.
1) Economic miracle 2) a landmark cliff along the Rhine 3) Coal for the stove 4) Cheese sticks 5) Danke vielmals – thank you very much

Contributing to the
Next Generation
by Don Ziegler
ENJOYING LIFELONG GERMAN FRIEND-
SHIPS extending into the third generation, promoting
understanding of German and European history by generations
of American students, helping achieve professional
fulfillment and scholarly production—these have been the
major effects of the Fulbright experience on my life.
When I arrived in Munich in the fall of 1953 I was
lonely and ill-prepared to carry on extended conversations
in German. Soon, it was my great good fortune to have
been taken in by a family of refugees from East Prussia.
They needed my board and room money to make ends
meet. I needed the understanding and nurture of a family
setting, for I was desperately lonely for my wife and young
daughter (having been notified about the Fulbright award
so late in the summer, my wife felt unable to break her
teaching contract). Although the family was headed by the
father, a much-traveled engineer, the real force was a motherly,
middle-aged woman, who eased my transition into
German culture and taught me to speak the language “properly.”
When good fortune brought my wife and daughter to
Munich after the first of the year, my guest family insisted
that we live with them in their five-room apartment (they
also had a sixteen-year-old daughter). Years later, when I
won an outstanding teaching award with a monetary
stipend from the college where I taught, we brought the
mother to visit us in America, a highlight of her life.
Although she and her husband are now deceased, our family
friendship continues through her daughter, now a grandmother
living in Budapest with her Hungarian husband—
whom we visited a couple years ago—and their two daughters
in Germany, one of whom spent part of a summer with
us in America.
48 49
After returning home from Munich in 1954 to take my
doctorate, I based my dissertation on original research conducted
in the Bavarian State Library. So impressed were
members of my doctoral committee that they recommended
publication by the university, which had the effect of
launching me on my professional career. Other publications
followed: a two-volume set of translated readings on 19th
century Europe with my major professor (I did most of the
German translations) and a work on great debates of the
Reformation.
WHEN I BECAME A YOUNG HISTORY PRO-
FESSOR at an undergraduate college, students were
attracted to my lectures by experiences shared from my Fulbright
year along with related insights into the larger European
historical context. More than a few went on to take
graduate degrees in history. During the 1960s I took several
student groups to Germany and countries behind the Iron
Curtain in Eastern Europe, always concluding with free
time for student travel and my return to Munich to visit
old friends.
Subsequently, I moved into academic administration,
first to a deanship in Iowa, then as the chief academic officer
of Doane College in Nebraska, the liberal arts college
from which my wife and I had graduated twenty-five years
previously. Among other accomplishments, I was able to
help further the college’s growing reputation for achieving
the most Fulbright scholars of any other higher education
institution in Nebraska, including the state university.
Today, seventeen years after my retirement, the number of
Fulbrighters from Doane (mostly to Germany) approaches
fifty. The Fulbright year was indeed a watershed experience
in my life. It significantly broadened my understanding of
both Germany and Europe, providing insights that I sought
to communicate to generations of American students.
Don Ziegler received a B.A. from Doane College, Crete, Nebraska, in 1950 and an M.A. from the University of Nebraska in
1952, before spending his Fulbright year in Munich. In 1956 he earned a Ph.D. from the University of Nebraska. He was an
Assistant Professor of History at Northern State College, Aberdeen, South Dakota (1954-56), Professor of History at Carroll
College, Waukesha, Wisconsin (1956-70), Professor of History and Vice President of Academic Affairs at Iowa Wesleyan College,
Mt. Pleasant, IA (1970-75) and held the same position at Doane College (1975-86). Ziegler’s publications include: Prelude
to Democracy. A Study of Proportional Representation and the Heritage of Weimar Germany, 1871-1920; Europe in the
Nineteenth Century, 1815-1914. A Documentary Analysis of Change and Conflict, co-authored with Eugene N. Anderson and
Stanley J. Pincetl; Great Debates of the Reformation; A College on a Hill. Life At Doane, 1871-1987; and Doane College in
Lincoln. The First Twenty Years.

Reconciliation
by Thomas Kapsalis
I WAS BORN IN CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, IN
1925. I visited Germany two times in my life. The first
time was when I was in the U.S. Army infantry during
World War II and fought in the Battle of the Bulge, was
wounded, and became a prisoner of war for five months in
Neubrandenburg, Germany, at Stalag II A.
The second time was during the year of 1953-1954. I
received the Fulbright grant to Stuttgart, Germany, to
study with Willi Baumeister and Otto Baum at the
Staatliche Akademie der Bildenden Künste, Stuttgart.
When I think back to both experiences I had in Germany,
I have mixed feelings. One can imagine the negative
feelings I had. On the positive side, it was my good
fortune to see the Deutscher Werkbund (the Weissenhof
Housing Project) in Stuttgart. These buildings were
designed by Mies van der Rohe and the best European
architects Peter Behrens, Walter Gropius, Le Corbusier
and J.J.P. Oud, among others.
I also saw a retrospective exhibition of Willi Baumeister
in Stuttgart. I was honored to meet Willi Baumeister
and study in his class. I liked his work and learned a great
deal about abstract painting.
I visited many art museums in Europe and Germany
and I was happy to see the actual painting entitled Funeral
of the Poet Panizza by George Grosz in the Staatliche Kunstsammlungen
in Stuttgart I had only seen it before as
reproductions in books. I also bought an original litho-
graph by George Grosz at a gallery in Stuttgart.
After I returned to the States, I was a teacher in the
Chicago public high schools for three years and on the faculty
at Northwestern University for fourteen years and a
professor at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago for
over 51 years.
In fact, I am still teaching one day a week at the
School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I am also a practicing
artist. What I like doing more than teaching or
exhibiting is doing my work, that is painting, drawing,
and sculpture in my own studio.
I have exhibited in Germany and Canada as well as
Chicago, New York, Washington D.C., Madison, Omaha,
Boston, Philadelphia, Seattle, Cedar City, Houston, Orlando,
Anchorage, and Little Rock. The gallery that has my
work at the present time is the Robert Henry Adams Fine
Art Gallery in Chicago.
IN MY WILDEST DREAMS I never thought I
would receive something as wonderful as the Fulbright
scholarship. It has affected my life in such a positive way.
After coming back to Chicago from the year in Germany,
the dean of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago
instantly hired me to teach. I met Stella Manos, a wonderful
girl that was in art school with me. I married her and
had two children and we now live in a nice house on the
north side of Chicago.
Thomas H. Kapsalis was born in 1925 in Chicago. He served
in the 106th Army Infantry during World War II and was a
prisoner of war in Germany from December 1944 to May
1945. In 1949 Kapsalis earned a B.A.E. from the School of
the Art Institute of Chicago and in 1953 went to Stuttgart on
a Fulbright-Hays Fellowship to study at the Staatliche
Akademie der Bildenden Kunst. From 1954 until the present
Kapsalis has been Associate Professor in the Drawing and
Painting Department at the School of the Art Institute of
Chicago, where in 1957 he earned his M.A.E. Some of the
honors Kapsalis has received over the years include: Huntington
Hartford Foundation Grants (1956, 1959); Robert Rice
Jenkins Prize, 59th Annual Chicago & Vicinity Exhibition
(1956); Pauline Palmer Prize, 63rd Annual Chicago &
Vicinity Exhibition (1960); Honorable Mention, New
Horizons in Sculpture Competition, Chicago (1961);
The Mr. and Mrs. Jule F. Brower Prize, 72nd Chicago &
Vicinity Exhibition (1969).

Designated an “Entartete Künstler” during the Third Reich Willi Baumeister later taught in
Stuttgart. Here, a portrait of the artist taken by Kapsalis.
Beauty in destruction, ruins in Stuttgart.
50 51

Thanks for the Memories
by Mathilda Nickel
Born in Ohio, Matilda Nickel began her singing career
in Europe with a Fulbright Fellowship for study in
Hamburg. She sang extensively across Europe, making her
London debut at Wigmore Hall. Since returning to the
United States she has sung leading roles with opera companies
from coast to coast. Nickel’s affinity for American
composers has led her to sing in many new works, including
the role of Sabrina in the world premiere of Pulitzer
Prize-winner Dominick Argento’s Colonel Jonathan the
Saint. Nickel has also performed such demanding roles as
Madam Butterfly, Salome, Leonore in Beethoven’s Fidelo
and Senta in Wagner’s The Flying Dutchman. She now
lives in Winston-Salem at teaches at the North Carolina
School of the Arts.
IT ALL BEGAN with my very first trip to New
York from Ohio in order to board the S.S. Independence. I was
young and scared to death. When I located my assigned
stateroom, which had four double decker bunk beds, the
first person in sight was the famous conductor, Robert
Shaw, sitting on a lower bunk. He was there to wish bon
voyage to a fellow Fulbrighter who had been a member of
his chorale. That was enough to get my blood rushing.
The voyage was thrilling. Other Fulbrighters, who were
musicians, and I entertained our fellow travelers and we
passed Gibraltar into the Mediterranean, finally landing in
Italy. The next trip was by rail up to Bad Honnef and our
orientation sessions on the banks of the Rhine. Then on to
Hamburg where I was to study voice and opera.
Then came the reality of what war can do. I found a
place to live in a high-rise apartment building, which had
been built to house war survivors. My landlady, the wife of
a well-to-do oil company CEO, had lost her husband and
her home in the bombing, but she took me, an American
student, in and treated me like a daughter. She fed me and
saw to it that my stocking seams (no blue jeans and sneakers
in those days) were straight and that my dates passed
with her approval.
It was not only my studies at the Hochschule für Musik
that were important to me. It was the opportunity to go to
the superb Hamburg Opera nearly every night. It was elegant
even though they, at the time, played on what formerly
had been the stage of their bombed out theater—audience
and all. They did not give up!
I didn’t learn from my opera studies alone. I learned
how to live from these people, who had been through so
much.
I remember Christmas Eve of 1953, when a friend and
I, another Fulbrighter, went skiing in Hoch Solden, Austria.
She skied. What I did can’t be called skiing, but I had
a great time! We went to midnight mass in a lovely old
church. It was so beautiful to come out into the moonlit
snow that covered the Alps.
It was friends that I have lost track of, news of whom I
read about in places like the New York Times—good news as
well as the obituary of another Fulbright friend—that made
the experience worthwhile.
I learned that I can get homesick, but Thanksgiving
dinner at the Consul General’s house fixed that—turkey,
sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, and, would you believe, fresh
celery!
I learned by work and play. I was with mixed emotions
that I got back on the S.S. Independence to go home. I would
love to go back some day.
Thank you, Senator Fulbright.

Mathilda Nickel (far right) and
Fulbrighters Pizarro, Patterson, Schultz,
Brown, Roulier, Myers, and Border prepare
for a concert during the Bad Honnef
orientation.
Then as now,
public transportation
is a staple of German cities.
Here Nickel hops a streetcar.
Nickel buys tickets
for the Hamburg Opera
52 53

John B. Payne was born in St. Louis, Missouri, in 1931. He received a B.A. from Texas Christian University
in 1953 before embarking on his Fulbright year at the Universität Heidelberg. Upon returning, he
attended Vanderbilt University Divinity School from which he received a bachelor of divinity degree in
1956. Then he received a Ph.D. from Harvard University in the study of religion in 1967. Payne taught
religion at Randolph-Macon Woman’s College (1960-68), and Bradley University (1968-71), and was
professor of church history at Lancaster Theological Seminary (1971-99). His publications include Erasmus:
His Theology of the Sacraments and the translation and annotation of The Paraphrases on Romans
and Galatians and The Annotations on Romans in The Collected Works of Erasmus. He is the editor of
Reformation Roots. Payne is ordained with dual ministerial standing in the United Church of Christ and
the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). He and his wife Nancy have three adult children.
Memories of
My Fulbright Year
by John B. Payne
MY YEAR AS A FULBRIGHTER at the beginning of
the German program in 1953-54 was most memorable and
influential upon my life. It began with a seven-day voyage
with all the other Fulbrighters on the S.S. Independence from
New York via Lisbon and Gibraltar to Genoa and then a
trip by train through the Alps to Bad Honnef am Rhein
for a three-week orientation session before we departed for
our respective universities.
Several of us, who had not received tourist-class dining
room tickets when we boarded, lucked out. We were
bumped up to the cabin-class dining room. I remember
with delight the animated conversation at every meal,
although I must confess that I missed some breakfasts
because I stayed up so late talking or playing bridge or
singing German songs with other Fulbrighters. I remember
the excitement, the heightened state of anticipation,
the camaraderie as we journeyed together toward a foreign
land. My only prior experience in a foreign country was a
trip to Canada as a teenager. I suspect this very limited
exposure to another culture was true of most of the other
Fulbrighters as well.
There was some anxiety about the language—whether,
when we reached our respective destinations, we would be
able to speak and understand German well enough to get
along. Some modest efforts at trying out the language were
made on the trip, but it was not until we reached German
soil in Bad Honnef that those efforts began in earnest.
There, my roommate, Bill Bader, and I contracted to speak
only German with one another, a contract to which we did
not entirely adhere. Most of us knew that we needed much
improvement in language skills. Fortunately, I had received
a solid grammatical foundation in college and was rather
confident that with sufficient practice the speaking and the
understanding would come along. And that proved to be
the case.
I remember being favorably impressed by the friendliness
and hospitality of the German people already in Bad
Honnef—the management and waiters of the Hotel Klein;
the citizens of the town; the mayor of Cochem an der
Mosel, who greeted us on our bus tour of the Rhine and
Mosel Valley; a pastor in Bad Honnef who invited several
of the theological students to his house for coffee and conversation;
and a student from Heidelberg who offered his
help in finding living quarters there.
For me, the supreme illustration of hospitality was that
of the Familie Lauer, with whom I lived during my entire
period of study in Heidelberg. They were a working-class
family who lived in a modest house on the outskirts of
Heidelberg in Pfaffengrund. They took me in with open
arms. Frau Lauer in particular cared for my every need,
including nursing me when I contracted the flu in winter
and a kidney stone in summer. Fifteen years later my family
and I made a visit to Heidelberg in order to attend the
Stiftungsfest of the Heidelberger Kreis, to which I had
belonged during the latter half of my academic year. We
stayed with the Lauers, and Frau Lauer cared for the children
so that my wife and I could take part in events of the
Fest, the ball in the Schwetzingen Schloss and the boat trip
on the Neckar.
The Heidelberger Kreis, “eine Verbindung, die keine schlagende
war,” 1 afforded me another memorable experience of
hospitality as I was warmly received at the meetings and
social events by the members who called me “Bürger
Payne.” That the original Citizen Paine’s 2 name was spelled
differently, didn’t matter. The meetings, with their lectures
and discussions on such topics as the justification for the
attempted assassination of Hitler on July 20, 1944, provided
much intellectual stimulation.
Even more stimulation and learning took place, however,
in the lectures and seminars of the University of Heidelberg,
whose theological and philosophical faculties were
perhaps, then, at their apex. I was delighted to hear and
try to understand the lectures by such prominent scholars
and thinkers from the theological faculty such as Gerhard
von Rad, Günther Bornkamm, Heinrich Bornkamm and
Edmund Schlink and, on the philosophical faculty, Karl
Löwith and Hans-Georg Gadamer.
One of the most outstanding learning experiences of
the year was the time in Berlin, to which we traveled in
June by military train from Frankfurt. We had the oppor-

Payne (center front), Baer (left front) and three other Fulbrighters dine at the captain’s table.
Payne (left) and another member of the Heidelberger Kreis. Payne’s host family, the Lauers, took him in with open arms.
tunity to view with our own eyes the conditions in the East
sector and compare them with the West. One memorable
moment was that of being escorted, along with an African-
American Fulbrighter, by a West German, wounded in the
war, over to East Berlin. He acted as our guide and
obtained tickets for us to the Soviet ballet in the Friedrich-
Palast. Of course, those were the days before the Wall,
when one could cross from West to East Berlin with no
difficulty. Since 1954, I have been to Berlin once after the
Wall was built in 1961 and twice after the Wall was torn
down in 1989.
In sum, my year as a Fulbrighter in 1953-54 was a lifeshaping
experience. I developed a love for German and the
German people and their history, most especially their religious
history. My interest in Martin Luther and the Refor-
mation was first stirred there. At Harvard, Reformation
studies became my Hauptfach even though I chose to write
my dissertation on an erstwhile opponent of Luther, Erasmus
of Rotterdam. For the last 28 years of my career I was
a professor at Lancaster Theological Seminary, now associated
with the United Church of Christ but formerly a theological
school of the German Reformed Church in the
United States. Our seminary and the United Church of
Christ in Pennsylvania through the years have maintained a
strong connection with the Church in the Rheinland and
the Church in Berlin-Brandenburg. I have also led several
seminar groups to Germany. The Fulbright experience was,
therefore, the foundation for most of my teaching and
scholarly activity.
1) A fraternity, where members do not receive an initiation scar 2) Thomas Paine, a.k.a. Citizen Paine, author of Common Sense and The Rights of Man
54 55

The first group of Fulbrighters were in Germany from the fall of 1953 to the early summer
of 1954. They included 192 students, 19 lecturers, 15 researchers, and 13 teachers and were
scattered all over West Germany and the western sector of Berlin.
Members of the American Class of ‘53-54 met up in Washington, D.C. in October 2002
at a State Department reception to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the German-
American Fulbright Commission. From L to R: Carl Alexius, Charles Buntschuh,
Donald Crosby, George Huson, Richard Hillsley, Jack Waldrip, and Reinhard Wittke.
Aboard the U.S. Independence
the Freedmans put on life
preservers during a fire drill.
John F. Mead, Executive
Secretary of the Fulbright
Commission in 1953
A special train took American Fulbrighters from Genoa across the Alps to Bad Honnef am Rhein.

1953-54
Fulbright Grantees to Germany
56 57
STUDENTS
Edward N. Adourian • Carl J. Alexius • Ilo E. Allen • Joseph Aloi • Theresa M. Audette • Barbara L. Babcock • William B. Bader • Richard A. Baer, Jr. •
John Bageris • Barbara A. Bahe • Mart G. Baldwin • Delbert Barley • Boris W. Batterman • Elfriede Batterman • Robert L. Beamish • Gretchen Anne Bence •
Robert L. Benson • Martha E. Blackman • Marcia Blumberg • John E. Blyth • Joseph Boardman • Julia R. Bolas • Jean M. Border • Daniel R. Borg •
Valentino Bosetto • Werner E. Braatz • Barbara F. Brill • Beatrice Brown • Harold O.J. Brown • Charles D. Buntschuh • Sylvan D. Burgstahler • Jean K. Cady •
Elise M. Cambon • Jay Henry Cerf • Vere C. Chappel • Howard S. Collins • Melvin Croan • Donald H. Crosby • Margaret F. Cross • Lucille G. David •
Lovye G. Davis • Samuel E. DeMerit • Karl J. Dlugos • Hildegard Drexl • Margaret H. Driessen • Ruth Dryden • John F. Fetzer • Byrnell W. Figler •
Paul T. Fjelstad • Andrew D. Foster • Charles R. Foster • Eleanor P. Foster • Grigg T. Fountain • Ben F. Freedman • Fumi Fujii • Thaddeus R. Gatza •
Albert I. Geyser • Panos Ghikas • David A. Gibson • Trudy Gilgenast • John Gilmore • John Gimbel • Jean F. Goodspeed • Donald Gordon • Emogene Gunter •
Charles Haeuser • Harold D. Haley • William A. Hall • Ronald M. Hals • Geraldine M. Hamburg • Arthur H. Hansen • William M. Hartmann • Lester W. Hauck •
Patricia A. Hauser • Mary O. Hartwick • Maurice M. Heidinger • Dorothy A. Hertl • M. Harry Hesse • Richard H. Hillsley • Charles W. Hoffmann •
John C. Holden • Helen J. Hood • Barbara Hopkins • John A. Hostetler • Giovanna R. Houtermans • Richard N. Hunt • George R. Huson • Mildred R. Janzen •
Earl W. Jennison • Loel A. Kaiser • Stephen J. Kaplowitt • Thomas H. Kapsalis • Richard E. Kear • Sister Mary Timothy Kent R.S.M • Arthur O. Kesselman •
Raymond D. Kimbrough • Warren W. Koenig • Dimitri D. Koovshinoff, Jr. • Joseph P. Kowacic • Robert H. Kreutzer • Arthur F. Kuckes • Robert L. La Hotan •
Wolfgang P. Lande • Marcia Landy • Marcus T. Lang • Edward Lewis • Leta J. Lewis • Herbert M. Lobl • Joseph H. Lonas • Frederick R. Love •
Chalmers MacCormick • George J. Maltese • Thomas Mayer • Janet K. McCusker • Barry G. McDaniel • Thomas A. McFarland • Raymond T. McNally •
Sheila J. McNally • David Michael, Jr. • Mahlon A. Miller • Philip A. Moose • Timothy Murphy • Gordon S. Myers • Robert S. Neumann • Christian B.
Newswanger • Matilda A. Nickel • Donald A. Nitz • Kathryn J. Nussbaum • Howard Pasternack • Dudley R. Patterson • Louise C. Payler • John B. Payne •
Richard A. Pierce • David A. Pizarro • Honore E. Pommerich • Julia M. Rahaman • Phyllis J. Rappeport • Theresia E. Reimers • Suzanne Richardson •
Robert W. Rieke • Phillip Ritzenberg • Gerwin K. Rohrbach • Ralph E. Romann • Bettina Roulier • Alvon S. Rudisill • Arthur K. Satz • Russell P. Saunders •
Marvin W. Savering • Donald R. Scavarda • Willard R. Schultz • Alice M. Schwartz • Walter J. Schwerin • John D. Scrimgeour • David A. Sears • Ralph G. Shaffer
David E. Silas • Ellin M. Silverman • Virginia E. Sperling • Herbert J. Spiro • Israel Stein • A. Bartlett Stryker • John A. Sweeney • Patricia A. Taylor •
Georg Tennyson • Harold J. Terrill • Adolph G. Thiel • Margaret H. Thuenemann • Herbert K. Tjossem • Jan Peter Toennies • Stephen J. Tonsor •
Marie A. Traficante • James E. Turner • Jackson W. Waldrip • Charles J. Warner • John G. Webster • Frederick Weidner • Merylee E. Werthan •
William C. Wherrette • Donald White • Elizabeth A. Whittington • Lois M. Williams • Reinhard Wittke • Harry E. Yeide • Leslie R. Zacharias •
Donald J. Ziegler • Louise D. Zillig • Alex Zwerdling
LECTURERS
Prof. Klaus Berger • Prof. Edgar Bodenheimer • Prof. Fritz T. Epstein • Dr. Joseph H. Fichter, S. J. • Prof. Harold J. Grimm • Richard M. Honig •
Prof. Joseph J. Kwiat • Prof. Seymour Z. Mann • Prof. William M. Murphy • Dr. Blake R. Nevius • Burke W. Shartel • Arnold N. Tolles • Prof.
Carl F. Trieb • Theodore Vermeulen • Prof. Everett St. Wallis • Dr. Harry R. Warfel • Robert Ch. Weinberg • Prof. Harvey Wish • Prof. Kurt Wohl
RESEARCHERS
Prof. Harold H. Anderson • Prof. Philip S. Bailey • Prof. Reinhard Bendix • Dr. Russell L. De Valois •
Prof. Herbert M. Gale • Prof. Sister Mary Grell O.S.B. • Prof. Frederick H. Hartmann • Prof. Harold B.
Hitchcock • Prof. Bertram E. Jessup • Prof. Walter M. Kollmorgen • Prof. Carlyle F. McIntyre • Prof.
Georg K. Neumann • Prof. Carroll E. Reed • Prof. Oswald F. Schuette • Prof. Robert G. Waite
TEACHERS
Matilda Bachmann • Robert I. Cloos • Anna S. Hudson • Ernest N. Kirrman • Alfred Krumsiek •
Elvira M. Lord • Philip W. McDowell • Nathan Norbert Pel • Ellen Potter • Muriel Russell •
Nita L. Willits • Warren G. Yates

Snapshots from the Orientation Meeting in Bad Honnef
Andrew Foster and Sister
Mary Albert Schueneman work
on their daily German lesson.
During a visit to the American housing
development in Plittersdorf, Mathilda
Nickel tries her hand with a bowling ball,
while Charles Haeuser looks on.
The program is new and the press are
curious. Here Chicago Daily News
correspondent, Mrs. Judy Barden (seated,
right) interviews grantees. Standing (left
to right): Thomas Kapsalis, Robert Jones,
Thaddeus Gatza, Harry Hesse, Will
Schultz, and Charles Haeuser. Sitting:
Sisters Mary Tenothy and Mary Albert.

The first class of Fulbrighters
is truly a family affair. Many
spouses and children accompany
the grantees. Some of the wives
set up a kindergarten to keep
the kids occupied.
Lester Hauch and his wife (left) enjoy a
meal with their Bad Honnef landlady,
Elisabeth Dierdorf, and her daughter
Marie Solzbacher.
58 59

The German-
American
Fulbright
Program
implements Senator J. William Fulbright’s visionary
concept: The promotion of mutual understanding between our
two countries through academic and bicultural exchange. The
largest and most varied Fulbright program worldwide, the
German-American Fulbright Program has sponsored over
30,000 Germans and Americans since its inception in 1952.
The defining characteristic of the program is student
exchange. This core program is complemented by academic year
programs for professors, teachers, teaching assistants, and journalists;
summer internship programs for students; and seminars
for experts in university administration and German and American
Studies.
The Fulbright Commission is a binational board consisting
of the German Foreign Minister and the American Ambassador
to Germany, who act as honorary chairmen, and five German
and five American members, all of whom are appointed by the
honorary chairmen. Guidelines are provided by the J. William
Fulbright Foreign Scholarship Board, whose members are
appointed by the President of the United States. The program is
administered by the Secretariat located in Berlin, Germany; the
Secretariat’s partner on the American side is the Bureau of Educational
and Cultural Affairs in the U.S. Department of State.
Das Deutsch-
Amerikanische
Fulbright-
Programm
verwirklicht die visionäre Idee Senator Fulbrights: Die
Förderung von gegenseitigem Verständnis zwischen den beiden
Ländern durch akademischen und kulturellen Austausch. Als
größtes und vielfältigstes Fulbright-Programm weltweit hat das
deutsch-amerikanische Fulbright-Programm seit seiner Entstehung
im Jahr 1952 mehr als 30.000 Amerikaner und Deutsche
gefördert.
Das besondere Merkmal des deutsch-amerikanischen
Fulbright-Programms ist der Studentenaustausch. Dieses Kernprogramm
wird ergänzt durch Jahresstipendien für Professoren,
Lehrer und Fremdsprachenassistenten sowie durch Fortbildungsseminare
für Hochschul-administratoren und Landeskundler.
Die binationale Fulbright-Kommission besteht aus je fünf
deutschen und amerikanischen Mitgliedern, die von den Ehrenvorsitzenden,
dem deutschen Außenminister und dem amerikanischen
Botschafter in Deutschland, benannt werden. Das
J. William Fulbright Foreign Scholarship Board, dessen Mitglieder
vom amerikanischen Präsidenten ernannt werden,
erstellt die Richtlinien für das Fulbright-Programm. Das
deutsch-amerikanische Fulbright-Programm wird vom
Sekretariat in Berlin verwaltet. Der amerikanische Partner der
Fulbright-Kommission ist das Bureau of Educational and
Cultural Affairs in the U.S. Department of State.

IMPRINT
Publisher:
German-American Fulbright Commission
Dr. Georg Schütte, Executive Director
Oranienburger Straße 13-14
10178 Berlin
Phone: +49 (0) 30-28 44 43-0
Fax: +49 (0) 30-28 44 43-42
E-Mail: fulkom@fulbright.de
www.fulbright.de
Editors:
Bettina Ross, Erica Young
Layout and Concept:
RPO Vienna
Printer:
RPO Vienna
Photos:
Unless otherwise noted all photos were provided
by theauthor of the article.
David Ausserhofer (p. 1 all)
Ulrich Creutzburg (p. 22 middle)
Foto A. Peire (p. 56 lower right)
Ben Freedman (pp. 56 lower left, 57)
Fulbright Commission Archive: (pp. 3, 56 upper right)
Wiltrud Hammelstein (p. 56 upper left)
Pressebild Schubert (p. 25 right)
Martin Quilisch (p. 22 top and bottom)
USIS (p. 2)
Gerhard Wellenreuther (p. 23)
Reinhard Wittke (pp. 36, 45)
Helmut Wolf (pp. 29, 33 upper right, 35 all, 52 right, 53 all)